The Tempest
by Beatle44
Summary: This story is about Callie and Arizona, after Arizona's adultery. How they each heal.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **The Tempest

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fan fiction using characters from Grey's Anatomy. The characters are created and owned by Shonda Rhimes and ABC. The story is for entertainment only. I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story.

**Summary:** This story is about Callie and Arizona, after Arizona's adultery.

**A/N** There is a plethora of good fan fiction out there right now, especially post episode 24. I decided to add to pile, though I am not entirely confident with this story, I decided to give it a shot. I have no beta (though I probably should), so the mistakes are all mine. Thank you to those who take their time to read it.

* * *

Dear Arizona,

You have shut me out, avoided me these last few days since that godawful night. Your sad, blue eyes tell me you are conflicted. I wish I understood what is conflicting: me, you, us? We've been together long enough that I know you need time to process, but I can't wait for that moment of clarity any longer. You know me well enough to understand that I am yearning for answers. Clearly, you are not ready to talk to me, to share what the hell happened. I am suffocating with the gossip, rumors and reality. I need to escape; my brain and body need fresh air. Remaining here is not possible at present.

As you read this letter, some of it will not be new information, and some of it will be. I just want to apprise you of where I stand, however nebulous. Writing this is all I can manage right now, each letter I scrawl, each word I pen is gnawing at me. I never imagined that loving you could be so painful; I still do love you. However, I need to learn to love myself again; my self-esteem is tattered.

It turns out I not only lost you, but I am now adrift. Maybe I have been astray longer than I even realized. You deserve the courtesy of knowing that I am embarking on a journey of self-realization in order to survive this, to understand what transpired. I struggle to wonder how could I misinterpret what I thought was healing, albeit slow and duped by what I accepted as love. In terms of how I am managing me, honestly, I am not sure how I will move forward from this, but I am determined to muddle through. I should be an expert on cheating spouses, right?

Who am I? I intend to find out, away from you, Grey-Sloan, well-meaning friends and colleagues. Starting today, I am distancing myself from all of those. My leave of absence has been approved, and I will be living away from all that is familiar, comfortable and yes, painful. My relationship track record is less than desirable; I think a fresh start is warranted and I am entitled.

You know by now, since the board approved it, that I have turned over my board seat to Bailey during my absence. She will do a great job, in that I am confident. It is probably the only thing I am confident in at this moment.

The apartment is yours, for as long as you want it. My key is included with this letter. Now you can be assured that I am totally out of your space, that I won't be returning, unannounced. If you choose to move, just place the remaining items in storage.

Where am I going? I would rather not say yet. We both have lost so much, we are both lost. Living outside of each other's radar will help both of us find our way. It is time that I only speak for myself, find my voice. For too long I spoke on behalf of you, never realizing it would do more damage than good. That was never my intent; I am sorry for that.

It is time I find my place in the world as an individual, my own identity. Too long I was the oddball living in the basement, George's wife, his ex-wife, Mark's best friend, his sex- friend, Erica's friend, girlfriend, her ex, your wife, now your ex. I've been cheated not once but twice, buried two men close to me, been an abandoned by my family and now by you. Oddly enough, though I detest labels, I am in search of one that suits me, one that defines me. At least I am still a badass surgeon and a mom to Sofia.

My segue to Sofia, how do we manage Sofia? She is the true, innocent victim in all this, the light in my dark tunnel. A difficult question, don't you think, what about Sofia? In my mind, here and now, you are not the person I fell in love with, perhaps in body but not in mind or in spirit. You are not the same person who gave Sofia life that day in the OR. Do you love her? I would say yes. Do you love her selflessly, as a parent? I'm not sure, only you can answer that. Is she part of your dream?

It is not my intent to keep her from you; I would never to that to you or her. But her welfare is my utmost concern right now. What have you become? It is a question that screams at me. You offered to cut my leg off with a bone saw to make things even? In what cruel and sadistic world is that even remotely acceptable? Your soul is abundant with anger and hate.

How did that happen? I know how, you fell from the sky. It is vexatious for me to think that you would rather be dead, than alive minus a leg. I believed "The whole is greater than the sum of its parts," that one, alive Arizona far exceeded her appendages. Never did I fathom that you would rather be dead than an amputee.

Know this - I will NEVER regret choosing your life over your leg. I would make the same call time and time again. If our dissolution is my consequence for loving you too much to let you die, then so be it, as painful as it might be for me.

Never did I think that your vanity outweighed your love for Sophia and me, or even yourself for that matter. Your eyes, your smile, your dimples, now they got my attention. But your personality, your heart, your awesomeness won my love. I find you remarkably beautiful. I said those very words often but you failed to hear them. I wish you could see that beauty too, that you did not need to sleep with a relative stranger to feel worthy of life.

It is still appalling for me to think that you slept with the first person who flirted with you. The irony of this is that while you found Mark's sexual promiscuity so abhorrent, you apparently are not so different. At least he was not married, therein lies a world of difference. Before I digress to further condemnation, I need bring this letter to a close.

Let's keep our communication written for the time being. Email, texting and phone calls are too immediate for me. The old fashion letter allows me to shape my thoughts more thoroughly and without impulsivity. Truth be known, my words are more authentic when scribed with pen on paper. Yes, I do have my email address and cell phone, but I will be checking those infrequently.

Veritably, hearing your voice at this point would leave me in shards. If you so choose, you may write me in care of the PO Box noted on the envelope. If and when you are ready to see Sofia, I will work out a time and a place. You are still her Mama.

My one request is that you please get some professional help. Arizona, fate has broken you and you deserve to heal. Do what you want to do, what you need to do. Feel free to move forward and even move on, away from my watchful eyes. Yes, we are still married, but the tempest clearly washed away our vows. I will not hold you to them, and I ask that you release me from the same marital expectations.

Warm Regards,

Callie


	2. Chapter 2

Arizona stared out her office window contemplating the last 96 hours. She'd been working on patient charts since five a.m., as there was an abundance of paperwork to be completed after the storm and ensuing power outage. The advent of electronic record-keeping meant that each detail that transpired with the tiny humans after the generators failed needed transferring from written documentation to the electronic files, a laborious task. Since sleep was elusive and she had not been home for any length of time the past few nights, she had plenty of extra time to get caught up.

She was avoiding Callie, choosing to take breaks in an on-call room instead of going home. Not 'the on-call room', another one, as far as away from Peds as possible. She was not abandoning her home, just taking a breather, allowing the anger bottled up within her to dissipate after the heartbreaking exchange with Callie a few days prior. She snuck home yesterday while Callie was in surgery to grab some fresh clothes. She had managed to visit the daycare a few times to see Sofia, but only briefly.

She could not avoid Callie much longer. It was not fair to her. As angry as she was with Callie, even by her own admission, what she did to Callie was cruel, what she said to her was far worse. She noticed Callie's name was not on the surgical board this morning, so Arizona assumed that Callie needed a few days off and in all likelihood flew out to see Addison

_'Where else would she go?_' Arizona surmised. Callie really had few options, since her mother shunned her and Mark was dead. Arizona was certain Addison would be Callie's 'go-to person' for consolation. '_How would that conversation go?_', thinking it ironic that an adulteress would console the scorned.

Arizona thought about how things changed already because of 'it', the euphemism she used to describe her cheating with Lauren. Yesterday, the board members agreed to allow Bailey to fill Callie's seat on the Board. Callie had requested it. It was a Callie thing to do, especially after what Arizona screamed to her during their fight: "it wasn't your experience."

Arizona's intention was clear. She made sure that Callie understood, in no uncertain terms, that Callie had no right to think that she could even remotely conceive of what it was like to survive that plane crash or the ensuing four days in the woods while awaiting rescue. Extensionally, Callie had no stake to the money that followed from the lawsuit. It was blood money, and it wasn't Callie's blood.

Arizona had no misgivings with her thought process; in her mind's eye, Callie was not a survivor and therefore had no right to be part of the Grey-Sloan Board of Directors. Sure, it was Callie's crazy idea to buy the hospital, but it was the survivors' pain and suffering that served as a down payment to the purchase, not Callie's. _'She wasn't on the plane.'_ Tears of grief alone did not give Callie the right to be part of their experience. Callie should know that blood was thicker than water.

Callie's temporary absence provided Arizona a few days reprieve to decide what to say to her wife. Arizona just could not define love anymore. Her emotions were confused, dark, complicated. '_How did she separate need from love?'_ When life was easy, love was easy. Now life is hard, and love is indefinable.

She did not know what to say, she had already said so much. '_Callie did this to me'_ was her predominant thought. Callie promised to not let them take her leg and Callie broke that promise; she broke Arizona's trust. _'How could she not understand that amputation would break me, break us?_' Arizona was awash with emotions. When she entered the apartment yesterday, sadness filled her cold veins. But now, as she was standing on her aching leg in the hospital, fury replaced the sadness.

_'There is a fine line between love and hate,'_ she realized, _'and right now I am straddling that line with Callie.'_ If someone was to her ask her the direction the scale was tipping, her current answer would be towards hate.

The door of her office, slightly ajar, was pushed open as she heard a knock. The executive secretary for the Board, Sue, popped her head in, "Dr. Robbins? "

"Yes," Arizona answered distractedly.

Sue continued, "Dr. Avery sent me down to get you. They are waiting on you to start the meeting."

Arizona looked down at her watch, noticing her wedding ring before the watch face. "I'm sorry, I lost track of time," she stammered.

Arizona and Sue walked towards the conference room, side by side, for the board meeting. Arizona was glad to have the company as she walked through the halls. She felt eyes bore into her with each step and that the "A" on her lab coat was magnified ten-fold, serving as the scarlet letter for all to see and to judge.

Arizona unobtrusively entered the conference room and took her seat. Dr. Avery was mid-sentence "…the magazine will be here late tomorrow afternoon to do the piece. This is really going to give us some great press."

Cristina curtly added. "We need it, the damage control," glaring at Arizona as she made her comments.

"Dr. Robbins, we were just talking about the PR piece that _Medicine Today _is doing on that case that we worked on with Dr. Boswell. They want to feature it in their publication next month. Dr. Boswell has agreed to fly in tomorrow so she can be here for the interview. I've made sure that your surgical schedule tomorrow afternoon is clear for the interview," Jackson Avery explained enthusiastically.

"No!" Arizona blurted, "She can't come back. I don't want her back."

Cristina, clearly stewing over this very issue, jumped all over Arizona's comment, "Maybe you should have thought of that before your sexcapades. We have all put a lot of money into this hospital; frankly we've put ALL our money into this place. It's not just our friend that left, our press magnet is gone. Just about every professional athlete on the west coast uses Callie. HER work and research puts us in the press weekly and on the map nationally with her TED talk, and she is no longer here!"

Arizona shook her head in confusion "I don't understand."

"Dr. Torres requested a leave of absence, which I granted" Dr. Avery explained.

"What do you mean a leave of absence? How long did she request?" Arizona questioned.

Jackson Avery looked incredulously at the woman he presumed would already know the answer: "She wasn't sure. We left it open-ended."

"You can't do that Avery. You have no right to make that decision "Arizona irrationally responded.

"I'm sorry Dr. Robbins. Dr. Torres gave me no alternative. She had two pieces of paper in her hand. She left the decision to me: her resignation or her request for an unpaid sabbatical. I chose the latter."

The color left Arizona's face, "She left?"

Derek, who had kept quiet up until now asked, "It's safe to assume you didn't know about this?"

Arizona shook her head no.

Derek continued, "Does anyone know anything about Callie?"

After a long pause, "I do, sort of," a new voice said.

Miranda Bailey pulled out an envelope and held it up. Bailey removed the contents from the envelope and was about to read it, but then decided better of it: "Callie said she just needs some time away."

Arizona, noticing Bailey's reaction as she perused the letter asked, "What does the letter say?"

"Just what I said, Callie asked for some time to figure things out and for us to respect that," Bailey replied.

Arizona was brewing with anger, what wasn't the doctor telling her? "READ THE DAMN LETTER, BAILEY!"

"If you insist, but Arizona, you aren't going to like what you hear", Bailey nodded, speculating that as she read the words on the paper, the woman, whose commitment to the letter's author she officiated, would now be torn asunder.

_Dear Miranda:_

_Though, I know you don't like to involve yourself with my personal business, I ask that you help me out one more time. Would you act as my emissary to friends and colleagues and say my goodbyes? _

_I need time and space to clear my head. I am not strong enough to walk through the hospital doors and share this in person. Events these past few days have changed everything. They say 'life can change on a dime' or in my case, in an on-call room. The simple fact is that Arizona had sex with Dr. Lauren Boswell. You don't need to sugar-coat it for anyone. Believe me, the truth wasn't sugar-coated for me, it was pinned to Boswell's chest like a medal of conquest._

_By the time you read this, Sofia and I will be well on our way. I have a direction but no destination yet. In truth, I am in search of myself. I thought I knew who I was, what I wanted in life, who I loved and who loved me, but it seems the life I was living was merely a façade. I seem to have a knack for loving the wrong people._

_Please ask everyone to honor my request for privacy. I don't want to be contacted, at least for now. I __won't__ be accessing my cell phone or email. I might be back, but I won't promise, because we all know how well my last promise went. _

_Right now, I feel that I have been cutoff at the knees. I do realize that is a totally inappropriate expression under the circumstances. With that being said, I will not return until I feel that I am able to walk tall once more, if it is even possible for that confidence to return._

_ Your friend,_

_ Callie_

An awkward silence hung over the room. Everyone had heard the scandalous rumors, but most were in denial. This was Callie and Arizona. They were the couple everyone aspired to be, they were made for each other, MFEO.

Listening to the bitterness in Callie's words, confirming the transgression, was agonizing. Every person in the room, with perhaps the exception of Arizona, sensed Callie's devastation and was saddened that she chose solitude over them as her comfort. The words from Bailey's letter hit Arizona like a sucker punch; caught off-guard, she was gasping for air. The last few minutes were even shocking to her.

Derek finally piped up "Arizona, you didn't know she was leaving?"

Still dumbstruck, Arizona shook her head no. Finally, she spoke, her voice cracking, "Bailey, when did Callie give that to you?"

"She didn't. I found it this morning in my inbox," Bailey answered crossly.

Arizona stood from the table, taking a moment to steady herself and left the room without another word.

Jackson Avery spoke: "We need to hire a per diem Ortho surgeon to cover in Torres' absence. Bailey, would you figure that out?" And the meeting continued, because regardless of the heavy hearts remaining in the room, life went on, it needed to.

Xxxxxxx

Arizona marched directly to her office, thrusting the door open. Patient charts covered her desk but she pushed them aside to find her in-basket. Sifting through the interoffice memos, the publications and notifications, she saw it; the letter. The handwriting was unmistakably Callie's. The envelope was heavier than it should be. Arizona sat in her desk chair and placed the letter on the desk in front of her.

She wanted to open it, but she was not prepared for what the contents would yield. Given the mordacious tone of the letter Callie left for Bailey and that Callie liked Bailey, Arizona could reasonably assume that the letter left for her would be even more acrimonious.

_'How could Callie just up and leave indefinitely, with Sofia no less?'_ As she deliberated this turn of events, her anger and frustration heightened. She was unsure for how long she sat, but her pager, indicating a 911 in the Pit, pulled her from the abyss where she was dwelling.

The letter would need to wait and for that she was thankful.


	3. Chapter 3

It was late when Arizona returned to her apartment. That's what it felt like, her apartment, not her home. Arizona defined home as the space she shared with her family and the space was no longer shared with Callie and Sofia, so it was now just an apartment.

She felt unwelcome, like an unseemly, distant relative as she crossed the threshold. It annoyed her that Callie's absence made her feel this way, like she did not belong. Tonight, outside of Callie's arms reach, she felt even further away than when she lived in Africa. The words written in Bailey's letter made it obvious that Callie would not be waiting for her. The letter she demanded be read aloud; the letter that confirmed to all that she, Arizona Robbins, was in fact a cheater.

Frustration seeped through Arizona's pores as she berated Callie for airing their dirty laundry in the letter to Bailey. Not only that, she encouraged Bailey to divulge the news to anyone who subsequently inquired. She once trusted Callie. Today, Callie's actions confirmed another reason to distrust her. Arizona's cacophonic tirade lasted the whole way home.

"Fine, I expected you to go to see Addison. I thought you would do that and then return and we could figure out this mess. But no, you left! You bailed this time, not me! You took OUR daughter. She is my DAUGHTER and you just took her. We are married! We have responsibilities here, and you just walked away. I was in the plane crash! I survived. I stayed, even after you cut off my leg. I told you were we getting better. What happened to there's _"no way I'm leaving yours"_, you promised at Bailey's wedding. Fine, I cheated. It was a mistake. Is that what you're waiting to hear? But you can't walk away, not like this, not with our daughter."

To look at Arizona Robbins, one would think she was raving lunatic. She ranted to no one, as she rehashed her frustrations over and over.

Walking into the apartment, Arizona was mollified by its air of intimacy; it didn't look like Callie had moved out. Its familiarity remained unchanged. Maybe it was all smoke and mirrors or a baseless threat on Callie's part. Making her way to the bedroom closet, she opened the door: blank space stared back at her. She opened the dresser drawers; they were bare. Arizona ran to Sofia's room; toys were missing. Their family picture, the one that stayed at her hospital bedside for weeks, was not there. Sofia's clothes, gone. Arizona was morose with the realization that a few AWOL suitcases could render the apartment so empty.

Arizona's unopened letter lay in her bag, seemingly ready to pounce on Callie's behalf; its lure inescapable. All day the letter bellowed but she ignored its pleas, opting to open it in the privacy of their apartment. Arizona sat on the couch, melancholy filling her soul, as reality started to set in. She tentatively pulled the dubious envelope from her bag. Recklessly tearing open the envelope something dropped to the floor. Callie's key to their home laid at her feet. A lump formed in the back of Arizona's throat as she proceeded to read each word.

* * *

Sun shone through the window, blinding Arizona. She had no idea what time it was, having barely slept, and never leaving the couch. A whirlwind of emotions raged through her as she read and reread the letter all night. She couldn't believe it. Callie all but told her to keep screwing Boswell: she really left her. Callie wanted Arizona to _"release her from her marital expectations_." Out of all the scenarios Arizona superciliously anticipated, this reaction was not one of them.

Sofia was gone; that hurt the most. It was easy to infer from the letter that Callie did not trust her. '_Who is she to talk about trust?'_ Callie took their daughter away. Guilt washed through her when she remembered words said to Callie in the early months after the crash: _"You should pick up YOUR daughter."_ Well, Callie had done just that; she picked up _"her daughter"_ and left.

Callie's words made Arizona nauseous. She wanted to attribute it to lack of sleep but she knew it had nothing to do with that, and everything to do with her sentiments. She had been feeding on anger and bitterness the last few days, all of it directed towards her wife. Now that anger and bitterness were not the dominant emotions controlling her, impetuosity filled Arizona. At a loss to understand what was in control of her mental state, her confidence waned.

Callie's word choices to express her actions scared Arizona the most. Calliope Torres wore her emotions on her sleeve. She was an emotional and passionate being. Arizona knew what Callie was thinking just to look at her, her eyes so expressive. The night 'it' happened, Arizona thrust her own words and actions at Callie, aware they would impale her and those brown eyes exposed Callie's agony.

But Callie forgives: she always forgave. Callie led with her heart, a quality that Arizona cherished. All these months, Callie never gave up on her. She took every verbal beating Arizona dished out, every tongue lashing. Arizona was, at times, relentless because she knew that Callie would still be there, that she would always be there. They were getting better. They were surviving, they were progressing or so she told herself.

This letter, in Callie's unmistakable handwriting, told another story. Callie's heart was no longer in control; her head was. Callie's brilliant, logical mind was now in charge, no question. Arizona cringed to think that Callie purposely, painstakingly and methodically selected each scribed word.

Callie's head would never forgive her, only Callie's heart would. Really, considering their history objectively, even Arizona concurred that she did not deserve absolution.

It was Callie's heart that chose Arizona over children. It was Callie's heart that stood before Gary Clark's gun. Again, deciding with her heart, Callie, albeit malcontented, opted to join her in Africa and later her heart asked Arizona to be part of her plan after Africa. It was Callie's heart that never once blamed Arizona for the car accident that put her and their unborn daughter's life at risk. It was Callie's heart that gave Arizona the strength to say goodbye to Nick and it was love from Callie's heart that made Arizona seek the promise from Callie to never leave. But it was obvious that Callie's heart was now broken.

Arizona took the now tear-stained letter, walked to her bedroom and placed it under her pillow. Heading for the shower, she knew today was going to be a long day.

Arizona was determined to scrub away the filth and dirt she felt lingering on her body remembering that Dr. Lauren Boswell was returning today. She could still feel Lauren's touch; how she had fondled her body, leaving unfamiliar fingerprints on her skin. Arizona felt like a modern day Lady Macbeth and if one listened carefully, the words _"Out, damned spot_," seemed to resonate through the shower stall as she fruitlessly scoured her anatomy. Shutting the water off, Arizona was aware of one thing; she still felt dirty.

Surgeries kept Arizona occupied most of the day. She maintained her business-as-usual demeanor, no one the wiser to the internal anguish that was wreaking havoc within her. She was scrubbing out of surgery as Sue once again tracked her down.

"Dr. Robbins, the people from the magazine are here. They are in the conference room speaking with Dr. Boswell. Dr. Avery asked me to remind you," Sue explained.

Arizona shuddered at the thought of speaking with Lauren Boswell again. It was unavoidable; at some point they would need to talk.

"Thanks Sue, I will head right over." Arizona consciously slid her wedding band back on her left hand and returned her heart necklace to its place around her neck; a former automatic routine that had become more deliberate since the night 'it' happened.

Donning her lab coat, Arizona's eyes were automatically drawn to the "A" on her coat. That single letter continued to plague her, feeling the trek to the conference room to be more aptly described as her '_walk of shame'_. Hospital PR required her to explain publically what a great team she and Lauren Boswell were. Taking a deep breath, and then exhaling it, she entered the conference room.

"Arizona, you made it! I got you a coffee, just the way you like it" Lauren bubbled.

Lauren pulled the chair next to her out, allowing Arizona easy access to sit. The coffee was directly in front of her. "Thank you," was all Arizona could manage.

Arizona gazed at the cup of coffee, knowing it was the naive catalyst for the ill-fated chain of events that followed her acts leading to 'it'. Coffee, the staple of a surgeon's diet, a performance enhancing substance: who knew it could double as an aphrodisiac prelude to an illicit act? She was reminded of previous words said to Callie in a happier time: "_I need your coffee. I want your coffee_". _'God, what have I done?'_ rebounded inside of Arizona's head.

Anxious to get back to his task, the interviewer interjected: "Dr. Robbins? Dr. Robbins, are you okay?"

"What? I'm sorry. Yes, I'm Dr. Robbins."

"I'm Chuck Davis from _Medicine Today_. Dr. Boswell was just telling me about the unique relationship you share. Please elaborate Dr. Boswell."

"Oh, right," Lauren answered eagerly. "Our work in the OR was phenomenal and the results speak for themselves. It's rare to be able to work in sync with another surgeon in a confined space like an operating room. It was seamless. Arizona picked up where I left off. I wouldn't say we were telepathically communicating," Lauren laughed as she said this, "but we are similar in so many ways that we were able to anticipate each other's needs."

Arizona could barely keep her head up. Listening to Lauren talk about them, together, was tormenting. It was maddening because Lauren was right. They did work well together; it was effortless and exhilarating.

Lauren Boswell's surgical technique was cutting edge. The operation they performed was risky, dynamic, evolving, and pushed Arizona's surgical abilities to a new level. A surgery so avant-guard, and outcome so successful that people would talk. There was not one word that Arizona could dispute. This was being published and in a month or two this interview would be read by everyone.

Lauren Boswell continued to gush. "Have you heard the quote? 'Synergy is the creation of a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts' that's Arizona and I. We have that synergism; we are awesome together, a force to be reckoned with, and we can change medicine. Together, we will make a difference." Lauren wrapped her arm around Arizona's shoulders as she uttered the word '_together'_.

The interviewer looked at Arizona sitting next to Lauren as she stiffened at Lauren's touch. "Dr. Robbins, it sounds like this is the beginning of a great partnership. How do you envision future collaborations with Dr. Boswell? You work at different hospitals and live a plane ride apart."

Arizona paused at the question, grappling to formulate an answer. She had no idea how to answer. "It is true; the operation on our tiny human was amazing. Logistically, I don't know how future collaborations will play out. We both have responsibilities at our respective hospitals which, as you pointed out, are a plane ride away from each other."

Lauren Boswell's eyes lost some brightness at Arizona's open-ended response. Obviously, they needed to talk. They weren't on the same page.

Wrapping up, the interviewer replied: "We need a picture before we conclude."

"We really should get Dr. Avery too: he was part of our operating team" Arizona insisted.

"Fine," Lauren curtly answered. Lauren opened the conference room door, to ask Sue if she could track down Jackson Avery.

Sue entered the conference room moments later: "I'm sorry Dr. Boswell. Dr. Avery is still in the OR and won't be available for a while," Sue replied.

With a smug grin, Lauren answered, "Thank you, Sue."

"So, I guess it's just the two of us, right Arizona?" Lauren happily stated.

The photographer suggested the picture be taken at the hospital entrance where a Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital sign could be incorporated. He decided to pose the two women by the sign, slightly turned towards each other, in the midst of a handshake. Lauren and Arizona lingered outside after the people from the magazine departed.

"Are we going to talk?" Lauren asked.

"I'm not having that conversation here. We need to go somewhere else," Arizona insisted nervously.

"We can get some dinner. I hear there's a great Italian place close by" Lauren suggested in a friendly manner.

Arizona's breath hitched: "No. Not there." That was her and Callie's favorite spot. "I'll meet you at the Thai restaurant on the waterfront at 8:00 tonight," Arizona countered. Turning around, Arizona entered the hospital without another word.

* * *

Arizona made the conscious decision to be late for dinner, walking in after Lauren was already seated. It was an attempt to feel less vulnerable. On the surface, this had the appearance of a date: a clandestine dinner with a woman, not her wife, who found her enticing and interesting.

Being fashionably late gave Arizona the feeling of control, letting Lauren know she was calling the shots. She spotted her at a back corner table, the setting intimate. An opened bottle of red wine sat on the table.

"Hey," Arizona croaked out the salutation.

Lauren smiled, "I was beginning to wonder if you were going to stand me up. I'm glad you didn't."

"This isn't a date; we're here to talk," Arizona staunchly countered.

Lauren raised her eyebrows, "Okay."

Arizona sat down. "I ordered a bottle of red wine. I had a fifty-fifty shot to be right," Lauren offered easily, her infectious personality putting Arizona begrudgingly at ease.

"I drink white, sorry," Arizona sheepishly apologized.

"Okay, I can fix that," Lauren responded. With that, she caught the waitress' attention and ordered Arizona a glass of Chardonnay.

The two made small talk while they waited for their meal. Lauren was reluctant to start "the" conversation, only to be interrupted by their attentive waitress. Once the food arrived, Arizona pushed her food around with her fork, barely eating.

"Can we talk now?" Lauren proposed.

Arizona nodded.

"Arizona we have something. We have chemistry. You can't deny that "Lauren explained, smiling at her alluringly. Arizona wanted to hate this woman, but she couldn't.

"We did have chemistry. I don't think we still have it," Arizona acknowledged, staring at her plate.

Lauren stared intently at Arizona. "Arizona, I beg to differ. When we were making love… "

Arizona's eyes darted up: "STOP; stop right there!" Arizona yelled. Patrons in the restaurant looked up from their meals upon hearing the outburst.

Arizona paused and composed herself. She continued, staring directly at Lauren Boswell. "We weren't making love: I don't love you. You and I, we had sex. We had illicit, one night stand sex."

Lauren answered unfazed. "Call it whatever you want, but it was good. It was better than good; it was awesome. You know it was," Lauren refused to be swayed.

"It was thrilling and exciting because it was forbidden. We shouldn't have done it. It was a mistake. I shouldn't have let it happen and you shouldn't have let it go that far either. You have no scruples sleeping with a married woman. You came on to me, you knew I'm married and have a child. I let you. Yes, it was an adrenalin rush because it was wrong. I don't do things that are wrong. I didn't lose a little bit of control that night: I lost a lot of control. It was, for one brief moment, exhilarating. You made me feel things that I haven't felt in so long, including tainted," Arizona explained with ire.

"I'm not sure what are you saying. It was just sex. Great sex. I'm used to getting what I want. I'm not going to pretend. I want you. We can use each other to get what we want, professionally and physically, "Lauren confidently responded.

For the first time all night, Arizona looked directly into Lauren's eyes saying: "I'm STILL married. I don't want a life with you. I will work with you and I will be professional because we are colleagues. That is all I want us to be."

Lauren, unfazed by Arizona's declarations, proposed: "Arizona, you're alone. From what I heard through the grapevine, it sounds like Callie is not coming back anytime soon. I don't need or want a commitment. I didn't sleep with you looking for a commitment; I slept with you because I find you tantalizing. After the intensity of that surgery, celebrating with a romp in the on-call room was fantastic release. I don't want a family or children. I like to travel, go out to eat, dance, and have sex. I don't believe in exclusive relationships. I like you, a lot. We can be friends and our friendship can have certain benefits."

A scourged look plastered itself across Arizona's face: this was déjà vu. Arizona had spoken similar words countless times to clingy women in the past. She said as much to Callie, after Callie had brought up having a baby: "_I like my life. I like it the way it is and I thought I liked you in it._"

She cringed as she remembered telling a pregnant Callie, "_this is not my dream, my dream doesn't look like this_." Arizona sat pensively, wondering_ 'what was her dream_?' Had Lauren just proposed reclaiming her discarded fantasy, the life she willingly gave up for Callie and subsequently Sofia? If that former dream returned to become her destiny, her gut feared it would undoubtedly become her nightmare as well.

Hurriedly, Arizona blurted, "I need to go." Throwing a handful of bills on the table, she stood up, leaving Lauren Boswell sitting there.

"Arizona, being alone is ….lonely. You might just change your mind," Lauren smugly declared before Arizona walked out of ear-shot.

* * *

Arizona felt coolness resting against her cheek. The unmistakable shrill sound in the background startled her from her pathetic sleep. _'Where am I?'_ she thought for a brief moment, trying to find her bearings.

She remembered leaving the restaurant, getting back to the apartment, trying to sleep, hearing Lauren's words revolve in her head, and then the nausea. She was in her bathroom, sprawled out on the floor. She remembered vomiting what little food she had consumed before dry heaves took over.

Praying before the porcelain god, Arizona attempted to exorcise the toxins within her. Her residual limb chafed against the floor, a new sensation, reminding her how disfigured she was. Sure, she had been nauseous before, but Callie had brought her a bowl: she never had to kneel.

Noticing the time, which was reinforced by her pager's continuous sound, Arizona realized that she was very late, and needed to prepare for another day.


	4. Chapter 4

Callie is on autopilot as she drives an hour outside of Seattle to find a hotel for her and Sofia so she can regroup. The storm of just a few days ago not only caught Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital off-guard, she too was unprepared for its clout. '_Hollow'_ best describes her right now. Chuckling glumly, she remembers when _she_ worried about Arizona becoming a shell of her former self.

Today, Callie saw herself as the shell; vacant of emotion. She likens it to the ebb and flow of the tides; it will only be a matter of time before waves of denial, anger, sadness, and depression crash upon her. Callie knows it will be some time before the high water mark is reached on her emotional deluge.

The venom that Arizona spewed stunned her. Arizona's wedding band, pinned to the chest of another woman, acted as a wand effectively 'stupefying her. Callie could not understand her wife's infidelity. '_Why?'_ reverberates in her head like a Dementor's kiss.

She surrenders to the premise that time away is necessary from all that is familiar: surgery, friends, Arizona, and mostly, the numerous reminders of failure and loss. If it was just the adultery, if that solely was the enormity of all her experience, perhaps she would have stayed: but it was George, Erica, the car crash, her mother, the plane crash, Mark, Lexie, her inability to stop the infection, fix her wife's leg and eventually, the amputation - reneging on her promise.

Arizona's leg acted as a blinder, entombing Arizona. Arizona was constricted from sharing her emotional and physical burdens but it also consumed Arizona. Arizona was veiled from seeing how the whole experience metastasized within Callie, eating away at her bit by bit. The unrelenting grief and trauma was too much for both of them.

Arizona was right: _"It wasn't her experience."_ Callie was sequestered in her own private hell, void of a support system, suffocating with not just despair, but demands from work and home. Desperate these past months to move beyond the events of the last year, Callie clung to whatever life raft she could; never did she imagine that Arizona would push her overboard.

Callie erroneously believed that Arizona and her could overcome their losses and mend together, pushing and pulling each other through the dregs of what had been their life. But no, Callie realized now that she had ultimately been ostracized from their marriage. Presently, she needs to think, regroup, start over; find out who she is, unconstrained by labels and history.

She allowed herself up to a year. It was about a year since the downward spiral with Arizona began. Logically, it seems that she will need the same amount of time to recover from her wounds.

'_Does one even recover from infidelity?'_ She should know that answer. George left scars, but they'd faded. Yes, she recovered from the cheating but their marriage was the casualty. When she met Arizona, she realized that while she loved George, she was never truly _in love_ with him. Love with Arizona, what she believed was true love, fixed her, and healed her for the first time.

Occasionally, Callie bitterly remembered how George chose Izzie over her; but, over time, more favorable memories replaced the acrid ones. With George's death, she was glad that his sweetness and thoughtfulness quieted the crueler recollections of rejection. Today, George wasn't even the bad guy; Arizona usurped George as '_worst spouse ever'_.

It was frightening that love is the answer, the cure-all because, right now, as far as Calliope Torres is concerned, she is out at the plate. She got up to bat and now, three pitches later, George, Erica, and Arizona, she is out: inning over. She loved hard, fell hard and it is time to give up. Her vulnerability broke her.

Callie wished it false, yearning for a quick fix, a redo, a way to make this all right. She would rather wake up with no memory of this at all. But that's wishful thinking: "Obliverate" only an option in Harry Potter's world.

_'Where to go from here': _she has a feasible idea. The upside of having a trust fund is that she can follow her dreams, medically speaking. She needs a day or so to make some calls, to figure out how to make it work. Prior to leaving Seattle, she was to the bank, transferring some money from their trust fund to a new bank account, of which she is the sole account holder, and ordered new bank cards.

She has a new cell phone, one with no contract, which needs to be reloaded monthly. She does not anticipate many calls.

Ordering room service, Callie bathes Sofia and settles her strategically in the middle of the king size bed between two pillows to sleep.

Callie considers her options. Running to the opposite coast would be her preference if not for Sofia. She no longer holds herself accountable for the promise not to run; to never leave. Those promises were made to a wife who no longer exists. However, having stepped away from the immediacy of the betrayal, Callie grudgingly acknowledges her issue is with Arizona; Arizona's relationship with Sofia is its own entity.

Arizona has a right to continue to parent Sofia in some capacity. Given Arizona's vitriolic verbal viciousness, offering to "even the score", Callie questions whether Arizona is even fit to currently parent Sofia. Despite her doubt, she needs to allow for the possibility that her wife, given time, could parent; assuming Arizona wanted to continue to be Sofia's Mama. She wouldn't sever the tie on a whim.

That limits her options to distances that are a car ride away. Arizona, most likely, will never get over her fear and anxiety of flying. Callie won't penalize her for that.

Between her medical contacts and medical school ties, the next day is spent making phone calls. Callie has quite a few people to reach out to. At the end of the day, she has a viable option in place.

* * *

_"Whatever you can't do, I will...Don't give up on me, Callie….Cut it off….Snap out of it, you cut off my leg!...This is my life now too, I've no-where else to go….Please don't run….. Is that Arizona's ring?... It wasn't your experience, Callie….Stick out your leg and I'll get a bone saw and even the score….You didn't lose anything. I did…. Apparently, I lost you."_

The phrases were bombarding her; then she heard Sofia crying. Callie's sobs wake Sofia, scaring the young girl. A nightmare: Callie had another nightmare. The words that she and Arizona traded were jumbled in her brain, screaming at her, invading what she hoped would finally be the peaceful sleep she yearned for.

Sofia is crying for her Mama, of course she is. It was Arizona who had just the right touch to settle their daughter in the middle of the night. Arizona knew best how to get Sofia back to sleep in the wee hours of the night; yet another thing that Callie will be obliged to figure out by herself.

As she rocks Sofia in her arms, she ruminates;_ 'it has to be a mistake. Arizona wouldn't do this to me. She knew about George and Erica. She knew another failed relationship would finish me.'_

Callie replayed the scenes in her head; the NICU and in the lounge later. What she saw, what she heard, couldn't be. She knows she is in denial; desperate for a reason, an excuse, or a logical explanation to make things understandable. There has to be a reason, a misunderstanding. _What did she do or perhaps fail to do to Arizona that made her succumb to another woman and want sex with her?_

It was her wife's loss of trust in her, that had to be the crux of the issue. Arizona said as much: _"I trusted you more than anything, more than anyone in my life." _It was months before Arizona would even let her touch her. They had barely restored their intimacy, yet in just a couple days, Arizona entrusted her naked body to a complete stranger?

Resigned to the fact that sleep evaded her once again, thoughts of Arizona plague her for yet another night.

The next morning, Callie looks at the map to plan her route. Five hours away by car is far, but manageable; enough distance away that she will not cross paths with familiar people, yet close enough that a meeting spot, if needed, could be established.

By mid-morning Callie set out again with Sofia, with her endpoint in mind. Driving east four hours, she arrives at the town of Pullman. Rural best describes the quiet place with its rolling hills and relatively small population, nestled near to the Cascade Mountains. Thinking about their Valentine's Day last year, she knows that Arizona will not willingly gravitate to such a remote location. She finds it tragically ironic that Pullman shares almost the same meridian as 'dump truck Idaho'.

Callie pulls up in front of the coffee shop where her meeting is to take place. Dr. Alicia Proficio, her old friend, mentor and former professor, now semi-retired and teaching for the rural medical program of Washington State University, sits waiting. The older woman is timeless; kindness and warmth blanket her face. Callie knows, just by looking at her, that she made the right choice.

"Callie, it is so good to see you. And Sofia; my you have changed since the last time I saw your picture. I would tell you how terrific you look Callie, but frankly, I would be doing so only out of politeness because, really, you've looked better," Dr. Proficio observed.

Callie nods in agreement, tears breaching the wall she tries so hard to maintain. Dr. Proficio pulls her former student into a motherly hug, Callie's walls crumbling. She cries the tears that she has worked so hard to will away which, with the passing of each day, have grown exponentially.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to dump my troubles on you. That's not why I came" Callie apologetically explains as she dries her tears.

The older woman smiles: "Callie, we've known each other a long time. Please talk to me."

Callie painfully explains the last year's events and how they evolved to the hell she'd been living these past days.

"I need some space, time to sort this out. I don't want to work as a surgeon right now. I can't. I'll be a single parent, with no support system. As we discussed on the phone, I'm hoping to continue my cartilage research; maybe do a bit of orthopedic consulting. I need to scale back. I've always wished I had the time to solely focus on my research, and I think this is a sign that I should do just that," Callie elaborated weakly.

The older doctor, sporting a self-satisfied smile responds: "Well, I may be able to help you out. We can make this a win-win for each of us. I met with the Chancellor this morning, telling him about this hotshot, former student of mine, who is on the verge of a big medical breakthrough. Here is what I propose: we have some lab space where you could continue your research and when you win that Harper Avery, don't forget us here in Pullman."

Callie proffers a relieved smile: "Really? Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, there is one more condition," Alicia adds.

Callie arches her eyebrows: "Okay?"

"I need you to teach one of my classes this semester, a clinical experience class. It meets twice a week," Dr. Proficio proposes.

Callie stammers at the requirement: "I'm not a teacher. When does the semester even begin? I can't teach. I'll rent the space. I told you money is not an issue."

Alicia shakes her head. "Callie, you worked at a top tier teaching hospital. I know you. You were wonderful as my teaching assistant. Your money is not the issue; your experience is the better currency. You can do this; I need you to do this for me."

Callie nervously rattles off her excuses. "Look Dr. P, I came here to get away from people. I hate public speaking. I'm not a college professor."

"Callie, this is my condition; plus I saw your TED presentation. It was excellent. This class is all about real life; you've seen that, experienced that. In these rural areas, our students rarely have the opportunity to hear and learn from some young upstart, who is so well respected in her field. You are on the verge of big things. You built a man's legs out of titanium. I need my students to learn to think outside the box. You're the one that can teach them that, not an old fogy like me. All you need to do is share your cutting edge medical experiences so there is a connection between real life and the classroom. The semester starts in a few weeks." Alicia knows there is no way Callie will walk away from this opportunity. Sadly, her young protégé has nowhere else to go.

More importantly, she knows Callie well enough to see the hurt and pain radiating from her. Whether Callie knows it or not, she needs to be with people; human contact will breathe life back into her former student, rejuvenate her. Forcing Callie, previously her best teaching assistant, to teach this class will be the necessary medicine for her young friend.

Alicia Proficio never would have guessed that Arizona Robbins would cheat on her wife. She attended their wedding; obviously Callie and Arizona loved each other deeply. Something was apparently very wrong with Arizona. But people change; trauma from a plane crash and subsequent physical disability does that. She feels badly that Arizona has suffered all that she has. At the moment, however, Arizona Robbins is not her concern, Callie Torres is priority.

"Why don't we meet for dinner? It will give me time to enjoy this one" Alicia picks up Sofia and dotes on the youngster. "Where are you staying?"

Callie smiles fondly at the older woman, who clearly has a soft spot for Sofia. It saddens her to think of how Arizona's parents will handle the separation and the news of their daughter's indiscretion; assuming Arizona will tell them. Callie thinks of her own parents, who rarely make the time to get to know their granddaughter. In her mother's eyes, Sofia is not her granddaughter but some illegitimate child. "I made arrangements at the hotel down the road," Callie answers.

"Why don't you get settled and then meet me on campus. The medical program offices are in Freud hall. My office is on the third floor, room 301. I will see you later today," Alicia cheerfully says, as she hands Sofia back to her mother.

Callie is relieved to have found an opportunity and place to work, but unhappy about the teaching. She envisioned time in a lab; uninterrupted time, alone time, but she will need to deal with it.

* * *

Over the next week Callie tries to stay on task; finding a place to live and making daycare arrangements for Sofia. She posted an ad for babysitting with WSU's Student Employment. There is a plethora of babysitters available to her, the benefit of living in a small town with starving college students.

Finding a small, furnished, two-bedroom house on the outskirts of town to rent is exactly what Callie needed. The house, often leased by visiting professors, has a mature décor in appearance and furniture; homey but professional. The swing set and yard were the deciding factors. Giving Sofia space outdoors to run and swing pleased Callie. But then, Callie sadly remembers Arizona's wishes: _"we should get a house….then she can have a yard, and then she doesn't have to be inside all the time."_

Work, getting contracts signed and overseeing the lab setup provides useful distractions to keep Callie's mind off her past and Arizona. The fall semester will begin the next week, so she needed to be organized. She realized, _"I like to be good at things, I do not fail."_ Callie decided she was going to be good at teaching.

Settling into new routines, her nightmares diminished. Maybe it was the mountain air, the new surroundings, the fresh start; there even are a couple nights Callie slept through the night, Arizona-rant-free. No matter how Callie recounted, reviewed, or replayed the events, the facts were undeniable, and Callie no longer refuted them. Arizona cheated, end of story; their story. Callie was pissed that Arizona could throw all they had together away so recklessly.

If Arizona hated her so much, distrusted her so much, wanted sex with another woman and wanted a divorce, she should have just asked.

* * *

Sofia is kicking a ball around the yard when the postman drives up; he actually stops, leaving his truck to introduce himself. '_This really is a small town,_' Callie thinks, snickering to herself as the lyrics "_where everyone knows your name"_ from the _Cheers_ song swirls in her mind.

"You're new here?" he asks skeptically.

"I am. Actually, I'm renting for a while. Callie Torres" she offers, as she extends her hand to shake.

"Tom, pleased to meet ya" the postman replies. "Well, this here may or may not be yours. It doesn't say Callie. It might say Torres, hard to tell. Forwarded to this address, though" Tom explains.

Scribbled on the front of the envelope, barely legible, was _Calliope Torres;_ she shoves it in her pocket for later, acquainted with the hand-writing immediately.

When she found the house, Callie submitted a mail-forwarding request to the post office where her PO Box was set up in Seattle; mail would be forwarded for up to a year, which allowed her to keep her new location anonymous.

* * *

Callie looks at the envelope she received earlier in the day. Knowing Sofia is finally settled in bed, she pours herself a glass of wine and sits down in the overstuffed chair that hugs its occupants. Callie knew she will need a hug after she opens the letter; the chair her only comfort.

She shouldn't be shocked that Arizona wrote back, but she is. Of course Arizona would respond. Receiving the envelope is none-the-less surprising and Callie finds Arizona's handwriting foreign. It could only be from Arizona, as it is addressed to _Calliope Torres_. As far as she knew, Arizona and the bank are the only ones to know about the PO Box.

Callie painstakingly tears open the envelope; it is like slowly pulling off a Band-Aid. Inside there is an unlined piece of paper; on it, frenziedly scrawled:

_Callie, call me. You need to call me. Please Calliope. I need you and Sofia. Just call. Now, just call right now, when you get this. Please_

The only way Callie can describe the handwriting is disturbingly manic. Taking a deep breath, Callie rereads the brief letter. Calm, cool, collected Arizona is anything but according to this note.

Callie ponders her response. She knows they need to talk. The damage is done, but Sofia, in all likelihood, will remain their permanent connection to each other. So, they need to talk.

Callie pulls out her iPad to Google locations two hours away. The most central spot she can find is Ellenburg, a three hour drive for her, but only a two hour drive for Arizona. She decides to sleep on her plan to see if her intention is still intact in the morning. Callie will set a meeting for the next weekend. She is desperate to know why she wasn't enough for Arizona. She went to sleep knowing her bed would be shared with Arizona once again - through nightmares.

The morning brings no change in resolve. She drafts a note to Arizona that she will send with the WSU courier who travels between locations, asking him to mail it from the Spokane campus.

_Arizona - We can meet next Saturday at noon. There is a Chuck E Cheese on Main St in Ellenburg._

_C._

* * *

A/N: Thank you for continuing to read.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Just a head's up, this chapter is all Callie, though the meeting between the two is coming - promise. Thank you for reading and following the story. I am most appreciative._

* * *

Callie sat in _her_ new lab, and although it didn't have all the bells and whistles of her Grey-Sloan Memorial lab, it had what she needed. A few items were awaiting order, but she would have them in a week and be ready to move forward with her research.

Callie reflected on the upheaval that her move to Pullman created for Sofia and felt guilty that her daughter suffered because of her decision to flee Seattle. It was a primitive reaction of survival; fight or flight. Feeling powerless, worthless, and drained, Callie determined the best course of action for her, unfortunately, was running away.

She had fought the good fight. Over the last year, time and again there were many clashes with Arizona about opening herself up to talking about her pain; starting with the futile challenge to help Nick and Arizona's resistance to acknowledge his terminal illness, followed by Callie's attempt to intercede between Arizona and Alex when Arizona was blindsided by his decision to accept a position at Hopkins. Arizona rarely talked about her pain, preferring to soldier on.

Callie struggled to function while waiting for news about the crash and the ensuing devastation from imagining her wife dead, then how careworn she became managing her family, Mark's death march and her job after Arizona and her colleagues were rescued.

There was so much during those post-crash months: she felt besieged by the lawsuit and the lawyers, who went so far as to twist her medical expertise regarding Derek's potential to resume surgery to increase the 'purse'. While not a survivor, she was a reluctant witness to the 'worth' of Mark and Arizona, who couldn't or wouldn't speak for themselves. She performed Derek's initial, less–than-ideal, surgery and felt bulldozed by Derek to follow through with an all-out effort to perform a surgical Hail Mary – which she did; even with the roadblocks in her way.

And then, to have her and Arizona's livelihood threatened by hospital politics. Seattle Grace Mercy West was always more than a place of work for her; it was her family and her family was crumbling. She fought so hard, along with Webber, to keep her family together. Yes, she had bulldozed her way through, in the 'Torres' way. That's what she did.

Just like those months after her car crash, she pushed herself through her trauma to recover for Sofia and Arizona; they needed her. When things were broken or weak, she sought ways to rebuild or strengthen, even at personal risk; she was innovative, a risk-taker, a 'go-for-broke' badass. And she thought Arizona understood her.

Though, in the haste of dismantling the Pegasus ticking time bomb, Callie failed to initially discuss with Arizona the strategy to save the hospital, it was Arizona who revived the plan. When she discovered that Bailey was leaving, when her advocacy for a patient was subverted by shortsighted hospital cost savings measures, Arizona got on board because of Bailey and her own realization of the potential impact to her 'tiny humans'.

Callie did not choose for her and it was good they dared to buy the hospital. In the end, Arizona made the choice for herself and seemed an enthusiastic participant in the search for funders.

Callie knew she and her colleagues would never function in an environment with substandard expectations or potential. '_A world-class hospital with no Emergency Room, ridiculous!_' she snorted to herself. Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital was the phoenix raised from the ashes of Seattle Grace Mercy West. Callie was proud that she played a part in the resurrection.

Finally, the greatest and saddest of all her challenges: the fight for Arizona. While Callie may have won the battle in gaining Owen's support for her plan to save the leg, the infection ravaging Arizona's body won the war. Not only was Arizona's leg lost but, it seemed, she lost Arizona to a voracious infection by the name of Lauren Boswell in the midst of a storm. Callie considered the absurdity of it all: _"Too many challenges for one person in one year; ya think?"_

So Callie left; flight prevailed over fight. She opted to hide from the reminders of the infidelity and her legendary failed relationship legacy at the hospital, to gain a reprieve from the seemingly endless battles.

Her short time in Pullman had been productive and comforting. She found Sofia a happy spot in a local daycare center in town and secured a few highly recommended babysitters for after-hours care in the event she needed support.

Her daughter missed her Mama and the consistent contact with Zola and the other GSM daycare center regulars. She realized Sofia needed socialization with other children, as well as adults. Adding new people to Sofia's social circle, while initially confusing for her daughter, would help her transition to a new life that was blatantly different from that in Seattle.

She was ever thankful for the adaptability of children which made"them more resilient than adults" as Arizona often said. Callie prayed this to be true, making Sofia the stronger between the two these days. Her guilt was mitigated by the knowledge that one loving person in a child's life provided protection against a multitude of confusion, loss and pain. Sofia is her heart; she is all of Callie's heart for now. The looming rendezvous next Saturday with Arizona pulled at those heartstrings.

xxxx

* * *

With everything set on the home front and in the research lab, Callie focused her attention on the dreaded teaching that would soon begin. Sitting in her new office, she was racking her brain as to how to approach the classes.

Alicia walked by and noticed Callie deep in concentration. "A penny for your thoughts?" she asked.

"Hi Dr. P" Callie said.

"Callie. We're colleagues now, it's Alicia" the older woman mildly chided her former student.

Callie smiled. "Okay. Thanks. I'm attempting to formulate the lectures," frustration evident by her body language.

Alicia laughed. "Callie, come on: you've fashioned an illustrious medical career in your short life; you're not even forty yet. What is it you called yourself, _a rock-star with a scalpel_? Think about your cases, even your everyday torn ACLs/MCLs are out of the ordinary because every pro ball player on the west coast consults with you. How about the guy you helped walk again, the one with Polio, from when you were just a resident? I'm sure you can come up with _something_," she added with dramatic flair as she walked away, shaking her head at Callie's lack of self-confidence.

Callie Torres always had a bad habit of underestimating her personal value despite her brilliance; she was worried how little the orthopedic surgeon currently thought of herself and her abilities. Callie's emotional break-down at their initial meeting, the need for isolation as well as the young woman's insistence for distance from Arizona and the life she'd led in Seattle was disconcerting for Alicia.

Callie pondered the cases that inspired her, and started jotting down notes. Alicia's reminder of the man who suffered Polio as a child with the clubfoot excited her: it was her starting point in thinking outside the box of traditional surgical practice. It was the realization that science, melded with her belief in her own self, could consummate in miracles.

She never forgot the homeless man, whose legs she built with titanium and the man she 'froze' so he could walk again or more recently, Derek's hand surgery, where she grafted nerves from his sister's legs to restore full function so he could operate again.

As the gates of self-doubt disintegrated, her former cases popped into her head: the girl, who while experimenting with drugs, 'flew' off the roof breaking over fifty bones in her body; the tree-hugger plowed down by corporate greed; the complicated ethical case of the soldier who requested an amputation because of phantom pain so he could return to active duty - all remarkable stories.

Callie's mind was on overload. She recalled the arm transplant case, and grinned when she thought about the tattoo that almost nixed the surgery and how her male colleagues called themselves 'medical titans' during the documentary. Jake, the ballet dancer, the man with the crushed fingers from a meat grinder whose toe she used to replace a digit and the incredible 'garbage man' artist, whose gift she restored with her surgical gift by rebuilding his hand. She began to realize that perhaps she could inspire her students as she enthusiastically continued making notes, because she was, in fact, re-inspiring herself with these memories.

Unbeknownst to Callie, Dr. Proficio returned to the doorway to watch her young friend. Relief filled the older woman as she observed Callie being enthused and excited. It helped her worry less and confirmed that she made the right decision in coercing Callie to teach.

Xxxxx

* * *

It was 3 a.m. and Ashley barely made it to the toilet as she vomited the entire contents of her stomach. She wanted to crawl back to bed but knew it was only a matter of moments before she heaved again. The stomach flu; she had the stomach flu and she couldn't miss class. Clinical Experience was her favorite; it was everyone's favorite. Student consensus, after only one class, was that Dr. Torres was nothing short of phenomenal.

Everyone in attendance couldn't wait to be a doctor after listening to the vibrant orthopedic surgeon during Tuesday's lecture. They knew they would study harder, work harder, maybe even play harder because Dr. Torres showed them how it all made sense. They believed. That's what she was going to teach them; how to make the seemingly impossible, possible. She was incredible. What the hell the doctor was doing in Pullman was anyone's guess. No one knew or cared; she was certainly a step up from the fossil, Professor Proficio, the originally assigned lecturer.

Pete banged on Ashley's apartment door at 8 a.m. so the two could walk to class on Thursday. It was answered by a wobbly Ashley. "Ash, you look like shit" he remarked.

"I feel like shit. I've been puking all night. I can barely stand but I don't want to miss class; it's only the second one" she hoarsely answered.

"You'll either infect us or puke on us all; you can't go. What if I tape it for you, that way you don't miss out?" Pete offered.

"You think Torres would mind?" Ashley asked hopefully.

Pete shrugged, "Nah, she seems cool."

xxxxxx

* * *

Pete found a seat in the center of the lecture hall and discreetly propped up his iPad.

Callie leaned assuredly against the desk, sleeves pushed up and a coffee in hand: "Alright, how are you this terrific day? I am sure you've all read the supplemental handouts from Tuesday, so this quiz won't be a big deal for you."

Groans were heard reverberating through the hall.

"Doctor Torres, are you kidding me? Pop quiz; that's so high school" a voice yelled from the back.

Callie smirked: "You're right, but the point is that everything is relevant. When your attending suggests material to read, you read it. Even when they don't, read anyway. Reading the supplements can save lives; it opens our minds to new ideas," she explained as she collected the finished quizzes.

"The resident that researched the solution on today's case study did his homework after brainstorming with his colleagues. He knew when to ask questions, and where and how to research. You can't blindly wing it in medicine. It requires teamwork and seemingly meaningless reading. Yes, we take risks, but they need to be calculated risks based on others' experiences. By the way, the solution we will be reviewing today was found by a resident not much different than most of you."

Her explanation continued. "Look here" as she throws the first slide up, "this 15 year-old male was a dancer with a cancer ridden right leg post chemotherapy. Amputation seemed the only viable option but he asked us to do everything we could do to keep his leg; he didn't want to lose the ability to dance. So, with teamwork and research we found a solution, which was to remove the cancerous section of the leg, zap it with high doses of radiation for 30 minutes and then re-insert it in his leg. Using a cadaver bone would have been a preferable option, but we couldn't find a match. This risky procedure has only been done a few times in the world. Cool, right?" Callie asked energetically.

She suddenly was breathless with the memory of her, Arizona, and Alex working to help Jake and the joy they felt when the procedure was successful; they'd saved a leg, preserving a young man's dream. Yet, when she needed to find a solution for Arizona; a solution that would keep her leg at all costs? She'd failed and instructed Alex to "cut it off". No innovative, risky procedure, no joy, no preservation of a promise; only loss, pain and hate. '_Why did I use this case,'_ she despaired silently. The students didn't know her well enough to recognize the pain behind her eyes.

Breaking her out of her torturous daze, another student interjected: "Hey Dr. Torres, are we ever going to see you operate? I mean I bet you're a badass in the OR".

"Damn straight I'm badass," Callie proudly replied, "but no, I won't be operating anytime soon. I'm having too much fun tormenting you med students in the classroom right now."

Another young man added: "I wouldn't mind having you as my surgeon; being fixed by a hot doc."

Callie blushed with the compliments: "Let's get back to our patient; who is now dancing in college by the way, with a highly competitive dance troupe..." as the class continued with Callie passionately explaining how her team saved the young man's leg.

Dr. Proficio noticed the conflicting emotions cross Callie's face, as she discreetly sat in the back of the lecture hall. She wondered what it was going to take to get that haunted look out of her former student's eyes.

xxxx

* * *

Leaving the lecture hall, Pete texted Ashley: **I'm uploading & will email the link '****_Badass Battles Bone Cancer'._**

**Badass?** texted Ashley back.

**Torres' new handle. Feel better J** Pete replied as he put his iPad away.


	6. Chapter 6

Arizona religiously checked the mail, praying that Callie would respond to her letter. She gave up hope of receiving a phone call; if Callie was going to phone, she would have done so by now. Returning to her apartment Wednesday night Arizona spots, sandwiched between the cable and electric bills, a handwritten envelope addressed to her, in her wife's cursive. Without hesitation, she frantically rips open the envelope, yanking out the letter:

_**Arizona - We can meet Saturday at noon. There is a Chuck E Cheese on Main St in Ellenburg.**_

_**C.**_

Saturday? She wasn't working; even if she was, she would arrange for time off. Retrieving the discarded envelope, she reads the postmark_; Spokane? Where is Ellenburg?_

Arizona opens her laptop, finding directions; _Over four hours away, has she really gone to Spokane?_

Finding Ellenburg on the map, Arizona sees it is almost halfway between Seattle and Spokane. Three days away and a two-hour drive and she would see her wife and daughter. It was the first positive thing to happen to her in some time.

Work has been calamitous. She was called on the carpet during the post-storm debriefing by Hunt and the Board for not properly preparing the NICU for the evacuation and power outage. There were some _'concerns'_ from a few parents, so personnel involved were required to disclose a play-by-play of the fateful storm's events.

During the initial evacuation, Avery noted her missing presence, resulting in her fellow being put in charge. The inability to anticipate the need for extra staff, to confidently reassure parents that their tiny humans would be safe and the lack of spare batteries for ventilation were noted as examples of her loss of focus.

Despite her mantra the night of the storm that everything was "fine", it had been anything but, and some parents complained about the shortcomings in the NICU that night.

Derek was asked to recall for the Board the events in the NICU, bringing to light Arizona's failure to problem-solve when the _'makers of the tiny humans'_ panicked, further highlighting her ineffectiveness to manage under the pressure. Her blood boiled when he shoved her right under the bus. In hindsight, Arizona understood she failed to realize that Derek's newborn was a NICU patient. Daddy Derek was compelled to abandon his role as father to save her butt. She hadn't thought and that was _the_ problem.

Arizona was raised in a military family with a history of responding to the challenge of an attack; to be prepared, and to anticipate all the scenarios. She didn't anticipate the perfect storm; no one ever does.

She earned her position in Pediatrics and won the Carter Madison Grant because of, in part, her organizational skills. The days leading up to the tempest, the flirtation with Lauren and the rush of another woman's blatant, unrelenting attraction to her, were a siren's call that held her spellbound, with little consideration of the dangers ahead.

The storm raged both inside and outside of Arizona. Arizona brooded on her conscious decision to lock the door. She physically and deliberately locked the on-call room door to engage in a few moments of wanton activities.

Lauren wasn't obligated, like Callie, to say she was beautiful or amazing. Even sans leg, Lauren Boswell found Arizona appealing. Lured by the beautiful interloper, Arizona was intoxicated by feelings of worth, albeit short-lived. Even at the time, Arizona was unable to wrap her head around how the events came to be; Arizona's subconscious flooded with post-coital misgivings, from her mouth to Alex's ears.

Fortunately, Alex only shared their medical interactions with the Board. Upon leaving the confessional, Father Karev kept to himself the sins professed. Not that it mattered; the Board already knew about her infidelity. She wouldn't be surprised to find it on Twitter:_** #Larzona** _or _**#EasyAZ**_. She wasn't easy, but she was; that night, she was. The generators failed on her willpower too.

Lauren's audacious presence in the NICU that night, combined with her capacity to calm Arizona, was unnerving. Arizona needed to process, understand what was happening to her, but she found herself adrift. The resulting letter in her personnel file documented her as a castaway.

Her life was currently a living hell. Arizona chastised herself for opening Pandora's Box. The emotions of appreciation, and warmth that she felt for Callie, were unknowingly laced with anger, resentfulness and frustration. They had successfully been kept in check…until that night. The storm unleashed way more than wind and rain, it let loose a torrent of sentiments, including lust, anger and spite that refused to be neglected any longer.

Arizona has been short tempered with staff and reserved with her patients; her stomach unable to tolerate food, and sleep has been erratic. She looks wayward. Believing her colleagues to be holding her in contempt, Arizona chose to keep her interactions with them purely professional thus justifying her self-imposed exile.

Maybe tonight she might sleep, knowing that on Saturday she could see Callie and Sofia. Arizona finds solace in the meeting spot, knowing the only reason Callie would pick Chuck E. Cheese was if Sofia would be there

Arizona leaves by 7:30 a.m. on Saturday, understanding that she would be very early but refusing to leave anything to chance. The lengthy car trip allows Arizona to plan her words of atonement, she needs to make amends. Despite rehearsing, the delivery feels contrived.

Arriving before the restaurant opens, she waits apprehensively in the parking lot for the doors to open at 11 a.m.. Upon entering the restaurant, the girl at the door eyes the frazzled woman suspiciously, questioning if she has a child with her. Arizona, ready to snap a response, takes a deep breath and explains she is meeting family momentarily. The door attendant warily accepts her explanation.

Choosing a table close to the animated characters, Arizona knows that Sofia will be captivated by the entertainment. Also, the seat allows for an unobstructed view of the door. Arizona waits, and waits and waits.

Finally, at 12:20, Callie, who is holding Sofia like a security blanket, walks through the door. Fears abated, Arizona stands eagerly, forgetting the spiel she had rehearsed all morning; words she had repeatedly mulled over for the past couple of weeks. Mesmerized by the sight of her daughter and wife, she can't help but smile at their presence.

Sofia sees Arizona and excitedly yelps: "Mama! Mama!" breaking her out of her reverie. Forcefully jumping from Callie's arms, Sofia runs for Arizona, clutching her arms tightly around her legs.

Arizona, tears streaming down her checks, bends over to pick up her daughter. "Hey, how's my big girl?"

Arizona's wet cheeks, too messy for Sofia, are brushed away by the young girl and she proceeds to give her Mama a colossal hug. Arizona closes her eyes as she reciprocates. This was her first true human contact since _'it'_ happened; she soaks in the invigorating comfort Sofia offers. How she misses her family. It is so cliché; one doesn't appreciate what one has until it's gone.

Opening her eyes, she sees Callie standing before her. Callie's eyes reveal nothing. They lack their usual warm luster and were hidden like black holes. Callie's gaze makes Arizona feel suddenly chilled. Arizona resists the urge to embrace her wife.

"Callie, you came. Thank you," the words earnestly spill from Arizona.

"Mama, the show," Sofia tugs on her Mama's shirt. The mechanical characters were beginning their performance.

"Okay, hold on Sofia," Arizona tenderly responds, as she sits down, placing Sofia on her lap to watch; Sofia clutching her Mama's shirt.

Dispassionate eyes searching Arizona's face for answers, her wife looked like hell. It is that simple and obvious to Callie.

Arizona is gaunt, her eyes sunken. The dark circles and pallid complexion make it obvious that Arizona is neither sleeping nor eating. Sofia, of course, only sees her Mama with the eyes of a child's unconditional love.

Arizona could feel Callie's scrutiny. She glances over, confirming her assumption and immediately looks away having seen pity in Callie's gaze.

"Arizona," Callie says quietly, "We need to talk."

"I know. Can I just enjoy Sofia for a bit longer before we do that, please?" Arizona appeals, clearly fearful that this moment of tenderness, by the one person who still loves her without judgment, will be wrested from her.

Callie nods understandingly at the heartfelt request, silently scolding herself for her impatience. Right now was about Sofia; observing the mother and daughter; Callie would not deny them their limited time together.

Pizza and juice were ordered. After, Arizona escorts Sofia to all the desired amusements and arcade games._ 'Who is the child?'_ Callie muses to herself. Arizona even lets Sofia play in the normally off-limits and totally unsanitary ball pit. After an hour or so of eating and fun, when another performance begins, Sofia snuggles off to sleep in Arizona's cozy arms.

Callie fidgets in the interim. Finally, seeing the sleeping child, and no longer able to keep her impatience at bay, she repeats: "We need to talk."

Arizona nods.

"Why? I need to know why?" Callie bitterly asks.

Arizona blurts, "It was a mistake. I don't know why."

"And that's supposed to make it all better? You've got to be fucking kidding me" Callie snorts quietly in response, quickly making sure Sofia was asleep once the expletive was unintentionally uttered.

Arizona sits there momentarily speechless, "It had nothing to do with you."

Callie's eyes grew wide; "Really? On what planet does that make sense? You're free to do what you want with whom? That's marriage to you? I just want to know why? What did I ever do to you that forced you into the arms of another woman? Or is it what I didn't do? Am I not enough?"

Arizona defeated, sighs, "You didn't do anything..."

"Except cut off your leg to save your life," Callie interrupts.

Arizona closes her eyes upon hearing the literal words. "I need you. I miss you, both of you," she pleads.

"It's too late Arizona; that's the bane of hindsight. The time to miss or need or even THINK of Sofia and me was BEFORE you entered that on-call room," Callie retorts coldly.

"I want to fix this; please. We can fix us," Arizona begs.

Callie looks disbelievingly at her wife, "You're kidding me, right? We? Is that the royal '_We_'? Because that's what's it's been all along; '_we_' is really '_me_'. I tried to fix you. I tried to fix us. You know what I do for a living Arizona; you know my life's work! I fix what's broken and try to build what can't be repaired."

Callie continues: "You MADE me your doctor and I let you, which is totally counter-intuitive to accepted medical practice. I let you because I wanted to fix you, more than anyone, as a doctor and your wife, I wanted you to get better. I made more than the promise to fix your leg Arizona. I promised not to GIVE UP on you! And do you remember after Nick? Do you remember that promise in the rain before you hopped the plane to Boise, the plane you weren't even supposed to be on? I promised I would do what you couldn't."

Arizona visibly recoils when Callie mentions the words:_ 'the plane you weren't even supposed to be on'_.

"And your body, it couldn't take the infection; you were dying! So yes, I broke the promise about your leg and made the decision that YOU couldn't make! That's what being your wife meant! That's what loving you MEANT. How was that betraying your trust?" Callie asks aggravatingly.

Arizona sits thunderstruck, allowing Callie to continue her diatribe. "Do you know how hard it was to have all that skill and experience, to be a '_rock-star with a scalpel_' and NOT be able to fix your own wife's leg?"

Like a child called to the principal's office, Arizona sits passively, staring at her shoes, accepting the rebukes.

"But what? Boswell is the antidote, the cure-all? Fine, if she is what you need to heal, be with her" Callie crossly presumes.

Arizona jerks to attention at the mention of Lauren Boswell. "No Callie, I'm not with her! I told her it's over; no more. It was only that one time. Please Callie," Arizona conveys as convincingly as possible.

Callie shakes her head in frustration. Arizona continues to keep herself closed off emotionally to Callie and what she does share is fraught with ambiguity and is nonsensical. Her anemic appearance is disturbing and worrisome. As angry as Callie is with Arizona, she can't help but feel compassion for the woman she loved so deeply. Callie concludes that today's meeting has reached its shelf-life.

Discouraged, Callie decides: "I can't do this right now, but you're still Sofia's mother. We will need to figure something out when you're better."

A flabbergasted looked settles on Arizona's face. "What do you mean _'when I'm better_'?"

"Arizona, have you looked in the mirror? It's obvious you are not eating or sleeping. I thought you were getting better, but you are still abusive and reckless: you're reckless with your health, and you threatened to cut my leg off for God's sake!" Callie barks a little louder than she intended.

"No. No, they were just words, they meant nothing," Arizona justifies desperately.

Callie shakes her head in disbelief, pausing a moment to ensure she chooses her words selectively: "Arizona, look at me."

But Arizona is unable to look into the eyes of the person who could always see her for what she is.

Thankful Sofia was still asleep, Callie sternly requests a second time; "Please, look at me."

Unable to deny her wife, Arizona's gaze finally meets Callie's.

"Now, tell me that a month ago you would ever dream of cheating on me? Tell me a month ago you would even suggest that cutting off my leg would even the score? Has the last year been some sick adaptation of _The Hunger Game_s, where only one of us can win? Tell me a month ago that your wedding band would be worn by another, over her heart no less? Tell me that any of these were on your radar a month ago," irately Callie implores.

Callie's questions do not require an answer, both know that. Deep down each know the answer is an emphatic '_No_'.

Callie's can't help but quell the anger seething within her. Arizona's fragility is escalating before her. It is so disarming, that she impulsively and poignantly pleads: "Arizona, don't you get it? Understand? I never saw this coming but more importantly neither did you. Who are you? Do you even know? I know I don't trust you, but do you even trust yourself? Tell me that all that has happened and all that's been said was calculated, premeditated? What will your next impulsive action be? I can't, I won't risk Sofia, and I don't think you will either."

The shocking truth of Callie's words leaves Arizona aghast and speechless.

Arizona's ongoing silence prompts Callie to continue on her soapbox. "What will happen next? Do you even know? You ask me to trust you with Sofia, expect me to trust you, assume I should trust you with her welfare? What, because you are her Mama, blind trust automatically comes with it? That philosophy certainly didn't work with our marriage, did it?"

Shattered, Callie knew she needed to take her leave. Uprooting Sofia from her cozy cocoon, Callie adds: "I don't really know what to think anymore. All I know is I've got to heal myself. I have to rebuild what's broken in me, and I suggest you do the same," and Callie hurriedly walks out of the restaurant, into the rain.

"Callie wait!" Arizona screams after her, unconcerned with the people around her.

Outside, Callie ignores Arizona's hails as the rain becomes steadier. She carefully places a crying Sofia in her car seat. "Mama, Mama," was easily heard from the car even as the door shut, segregating Arizona from her daughter.

"Stop, you're my wife. You need to at least hear me out!" Arizona frantically demands.

Callie shakes her head disheartened as rain drenches her: "You are not my wife; my wife died in a plane crash."

"Don't you think I know that, Calliope?" the words explode from Arizona.

"Everyday I wake up and there is a little more of me gone. Every day I wish I were dead instead of this slow, tortuous decay. Newsflash! Yes, I would rather be dead than have one leg," words oozing from a trembling, raging Arizona.

Without realizing it, Arizona's emotional rampage begins to illuminate some inner personal demons: "I'm the miserable bitch who should have died. And yes, you couldn't fix me. Of all your cases, it was your wife you failed to repair. Ironic don't you think? It reads like one of those Greek tragedies: the Ortho goddess and Achilles heel. I'm your _'lame and impotent conclusion'_. Why would you stay and not leave? You're whole, beautiful, talented, and outstanding; people will be lining up for YOU".

"What?" Arizona's words pummel Callie.

Callie stands in shock: "What are you saying? You think I'm that, that...shallow? That I only see you as an extension of my surgical ego and was with you out of obligation? You think I no longer loved you because I failed to save your leg? That your legs define all that you are? This is Africa all over again isn't it? You're still deciding for me, controlling the outcome before we even talk about how we feel."

"Callie, no…" Arizona sobs as conflicting emotions rage for control within her.

Arizona's words were smothering her. _'Did my ego cause this?'_ Callie wonders internally. Momentarily thinking, _'No'_ was the answer, but she can't help but feel guilty. Callie needs space to process all that has been said.

Opening the driver's door and getting in, she grasps the wheel with both hands and presses her head back against her headrest to calm herself. Sofia's cries remind her that she needs to keep going, keep trekking on. Slamming the driver's side door shut, she shifts into drive, and as she passes Arizona, Callie opens her window leaving the last words in anger.

"By the way, I know it wasn't '_my experience_'. I was trying to be empathetic, but I guess I suck at that too," Callie resentfully adds. She drives off before the woebegone meeting deteriorates further.

In the pouring rain, Arizona stands, quaking in the aftermath of her eruption. She spontaneously combusted and the emotional lava that spewed from her mouth hardens around her. Standing, statue-like, and Arizona wonders who she is. Because this person inhabiting her body was not the person she was raised to be. Arizona did not know whom she was most angry with. Was it Callie, whose words stung with truth? Or her own self, for being so misguided? Callie was right; the true Arizona Robbins died in the plane crash.


	7. Chapter 7

Callie drove straight home after stopping for gas. She was relieved the downpour subsided making her drive easier. The radio's music fills her head, pushing all that transpired earlier out of her overactive brain.

Sofia screeched "Mama, my Mama" for more than a half hour before exhaustion took over and the little girl fell prey to sleep. Callie's heart broke for Sofia; she felt guilty for driving off without allowing Arizona and Sofia to say their goodbyes. She tried to tell herself that she needed to shield Sofia from Arizona's frantic, disturbing revelations and so she escaped. Who was she kidding? Callie knew leaving was to avoid any additional disclosures, further widening the fissure existing between them.

Words clogged in Arizona's brain finally let loose like a broken pipe; her wounded soul gushed out. _'She would rather be dead?'_ Callie couldn't absorb the thought that her wife would have rather died than have lost a leg.

Callie believed that Arizona didn't grasp all that she said in anger. In the past, Arizona had often lashed out, picking a fight to hide her fear and pain. Was her tirade just that, a smokescreen? Even if true, it did not excuse her from accountability.

Arizona's harangue made it clear that she saw herself as Callie's ultimate failure._ 'What was that all about? Did she not know I considered her my everything, my biggest success?'_ Words held meaning for Callie and her wife's words continued to erode her confidence - her belief in herself as a good surgeon, wife and supportive partner to Arizona.

Callie never, for one moment, regretted being with Arizona. She was so proud of her wife, of them, well, that was until…. She was happy to see the progress Arizona seemingly made in getting back to herself; being a surgeon, a 'Mama' and a more communicative partner since Bailey's wedding and the x-ray room. Callie thought she offered enough reassurance to Arizona that, in no uncertain terms, she was as desirable and worthy as she was prior to the crash.

Callie shook her head trying to rid her mind of the confusion and shame. She meant what she said; she was done fixing people. Arizona needed to fix herself. Even _'all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Arizona together again'_ if Arizona wasn't vested in her own recovery; even conventional wisdom would not argue with that.

Pulling into her tranquil neighborhood, she sees an unfamiliar pickup truck in front of her house. Slowly, she pulls into the driveway with Sofia fast asleep in her car seat. Callie opens the car windows, and exits the car. Puzzled, she walks to the back of her house, noticing an unfamiliar figure exiting her shed. It was a boy about 16 years old. Obviously, he is old enough to drive.

"Oh, Mrs. Torres, you're back," the youth stammers.

"Stop right there!" Callie demands, making the teen go pale. "My mother is Mrs. Torres, and she is kind of old and crotchety," Callie smiles. "Call me Callie, please," as she extends her hand to shake his.

A look of relief washes over the boy. "I can't do that. I'm supposed to be respectful," he explains, shaking his head.

"Hmm, well what about Dr. T, it's a mix of formal and informal? My students often use that," she suggests. "How about you? Do you have a name? I'm guessing you're my Good Samaritan who mows the lawn?"

"I'm Zach," he replies looking sheepishly at the ground. "Yah, that's been me."

Callie pulls out her wallet; "Here, let me pay you."

"No. I can't take your money. That's not how things work around here," the boy earnestly discloses.

Callie looks at Zach surprised.

He continues. "Haven't you ever lived in a small town before? Everyone helps each other out. You're new, and it looks like you're on your own. People talk...my sister, Jessie, baby-sits for you. You have a new job, a kid, a lot to do…I dunno."

Smiling at the sincerity of the youth's words, Callie offers: "I have cookies inside and I'm a pretty good cook. Cookies are okay, right?"

Zach smiles as he follows her into the house. For Callie, these little kindnesses extended to her during her short stay are a balm to her wounds and a quiet reminder that Pullman is a healing place.

* * *

Returning home, the dampness from the drenching rain fills Arizona's every pore and even the hot shower could not warm her.

Kicking herself for once again spewing acrimonious rhetoric to Callie, she thinks her mouth has a mind of its own. Over the past week, she wondered how much worse it could get: today was worse. Remembering _'baby-gate'_, she questions whether her insistence to Callie that she "_wasn't broken, or some psycho-drama,_" was untrue.

She actually told Callie she would rather be dead. Had she meant that? Was that really true? Arizona took enough Psychology classes to know that such words don't just randomly pop out in conversation. Somewhere, deep within her, there must be some validity to them.

She needed help. The storm was over and the aftermath left seemingly insurmountable challenges. She knew it was time to make a phone call that she'd been avoiding. Gathering her determination, she dials the familiar number.

"Mom?" Arizona's voice is hoarse and broken from sobbing.

"Arizona?….Arizona, are you okay?...Arizona, please talk to me," Barbara frantically demands.

Through the sobs: "Oh Mom. I really…Callie and Sofia….."

Her mother can hear the devastation in Arizona's jumbled words, and she uses all her strength to not panic as well. Barbara yells to Daniel to pick up the other receiver. "Stop for a minute and just breathe. Now Arizona, take your time honey and tell me what's happened."

Through the tears, Arizona explains her day, her week, her month and what was happening behind the façade of her life.

She knew her parents must be crushed to learn of the separation, but they did not let on. Her mother responds, "We know how hard this must be for all of you."

While Arizona is certain disappointment barely begins to describe how they view her indiscretion, they refrain from commenting, allowing her to work through her feelings with their quiet, and attentive presence.

"How can you not say I'm a screw up, an idiot, and stupid for throwing away the best things in my life?" she weepingly challenges.

Her mother easily replies. "A parent's love doesn't judge Arizona. You made a mistake. Yes, mistakes come with consequences, but as painful as they are, it is not the end of the world."

Finally, her father speaks. She dreads what he will say, because she knows his views on honor and Arizona did not act honorably in this instance. "Arizona," the Colonel pauses, "This is not how we raised you to be."

Arizona's heart sinks with his words. She expects them, but they hurt nonetheless.

"This is not you. Since that damn crash you insisted on recovering your way. You said you were _'the doctor'_, and we didn't push, figuring between you and Callie you would wade through the hardships. Clearly, this is bigger than both of you," her father rationally explains. Daniel is annoyed with himself for not trusting his gut regarding his daughter's recovery.

Still crying, Arizona responds to his unexpected comments: "I don't understand."

"You need help; professional help, counseling," the Colonel replies.

"No!" is the emphatic reaction upon hearing the tabooed word.

"Arizona, this is your life, and your choice to live it the way you want but is this the life you are choosing? Remember what Einstein said about insanity," he questions.

Arizona groans. Tim always teased her for her doggedness which often served her well but at times prevented her from knowing when to quit. "I remember: _'doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results._' But I'm not crazy, Dad."

"No you're not, but it doesn't mean that you don't need help, Arizona. It takes a lot of courage to admit when something is bigger than you. You faced incredible trauma, like what our vets go through after returning home from war. It's okay to ask for help. I tell my soldiers that. It wasn't always the army way but it is now. And…..and I agree with it," her father answers.

Arizona is angry with her father's suggestion. "Dad, you always said to suck it up, man-up, move on and don't dwell. You wouldn't even allow two minutes of silence for Tim at my wedding for God's sake! Now, you think I need to ask for help?"

Daniel remains mute on the phone. The guilt he feels for his _'plow-through-bury feelings-take control-hit hard and fast-never ask for help'_ parenting technique is apparent by his silence. Barbara interjects; "Arizona, this isn't the playground anymore, this is life. I never supported that philosophy anyway; plus you tried that and it didn't work."

"She's right, your mother is right," Daniel adds firmly.

Her father, the ultimate soldier in her eyes, just helped to remove the stigma which had plagued and prevented her from any meaningful healing. "Okay, I'll think about it," she answers, knowing she was falling and perilously close to scraping the bottom of her resource well.

* * *

Monday morning, hidden in her office while considering her parents' words, Arizona perused the Seattle medical directory debating what to do. She knew the list was short; the directory told her that. Only one counselor appeared to meet her needs, the most important of which is someone not affiliated with Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital. Locking her office door, she makes one of the hardest decisions and phone calls of her life.

Summoning what little courage she has, Arizona says: "Hello. I would like to make an appointment with Dr. Ben Alexander."

"Well, let's see. We are scheduling a few weeks out….," the voice replies.

Panicky, Arizona responds: "No, that won't work. Look this is…important. I need an appointment as soon as possible."

"I'm sorry. Dr. Alexander's schedule is full to new emergency patients at the moment," the secretary answers.

With her voice clearly cracking, Arizona pleads, "Look, I need to see someone now. Can you recommend another trauma counselor in the area who is taking new patients immediately?"

"Could I call you back with names? I will need to check with Dr. Alexander," the secretary inquires.

"Fine." Frustrated, Arizona ends the call after leaving her name and number.

* * *

While eating lunch in the solitude of her office, Arizona's cell rings. A blocked number message flashes on the screen, not unusual for those in the medical profession: "Dr. Robbins," she answers.

"Is this Arizona Robbins?" the male voice asks.

"Yes, may I help you?" she replies.

"I'm Ben Alexander; you called my office this morning looking for an appointment. My secretary said you seemed…..anxious. She said you wanted names of other counselors in the area to see on a more immediate basis. I'm calling you personally to make sure I recommend someone who best suits your needs. I'm assuming because you didn't leave your name as Dr. Arizona Robbins this appointment is for you and not your patient?"

After a long silence, Arizona finally, emotionlessly responds: "Yes."

"Well, you specifically asked for a trauma counselor and indicated to my secretary there was some urgency to this request. If it's okay, would you mind sharing some information about your concerns over the phone? It would help me better advise you," Dr. Alexander continues.

Closing her eyes, Arizona steels her nerves and impassively explains. "About a year ago I was in a plane crash with some colleagues. I survived, but my wife authorized the amputation of my leg after promising she wouldn't. She just left me, taking our daughter and I have no idea where they are living. She said I need to get help before she will let me parent alone." There it was: the cliff note version of her pitiable life, though she omitted the crux of the matter, which precipitated this personal crisis.

After a momentary pause, Dr. Alexander responds. "Dr. Robbins, can you come by my office late this afternoon, say 5?" The dearth of emotion in Arizona's voice when describing her situation raises a red flag for the psychologist.

"Yes, I can be there," she answers mechanically.

* * *

Arizona arrives promptly at 5 pm. to Dr. Alexander's office and is immediately ushered in.

"Hi, Ben Alexander, glad you could make it," he introduces himself, waving Arizona to a seat in front of his desk.

Struggling to make eye contact, "Arizona Robbins," she replies as she sits down.

Dr. Alexander begins: "Shall we forgo the formality and stick with first names? I find it less cumbersome. To me, when I address clients formally, it sets an unnecessary boundary. We need to be partners here. Dispensing with titles levels the playing field. Are you okay with that?"

Arizona nods in agreement.

"I heard about the plane crash. I often wondered how you all fared. That's serious trauma to have endured, particularly considering hospital personnel were subjected to that shooting rampage not long ago. Were you there for that as well?" Ben asks.

He notices Arizona stiffen at the mention of the shooting and her lack of response to his direct question. First impressions are significant, and his first impression is this client is hoarding a lot of baggage.

Noticing her reluctance to engage him and her downcast demeanor, Ben continues: "Let's get the paperwork started tonight, shall we? I need you to complete this history for me. You can bring it with you to your next visit, which brings me to scheduling appointments. I know you are a doctor, so timing is going to be a challenge. What did you have in mind?"

"I'm willing to see you as often as I can but later in the day would be better for me," Arizona honestly answers. "I've lost everything at this point," anguish evident in her tone.

"Okay," he responds, her desperation projecting loud and clear. "What if we start with 5 o'clock on Monday, Wednesday and Friday? After a couple of weeks we can reevaluate."

The look of relief on Arizona's face isn't a smile but it's as close as Ben is going to get. Arizona rises to leave, "See you Wednesday. Thank you." Before exiting, Arizona turns asking, "Why are you seeing me? Your schedule is full at the moment."

"Well, you're a doctor, and I like to help peers. Let's just say, my gut says we are a good fit," Ben answers and continues with concern. "Arizona, it's obvious that you're not sleeping well and you seem fragile. I know we've just met briefly, but is there anything I can do for you right now? Do you need immediate help? I have to ask, have you thought of harming yourself?" Truthfully, he sees a woman on the verge of crisis, his instincts telling him this is a case he needs to take.

Arizona bristles at his words but keeps her voice neutral in response: "No. No, I won't harm myself..." she laughs ironically at the words mumbling "my wife already did that". More clearly, she says: "I'll be okay until our next session, I promise," as she quickly exits.

* * *

Arizona arrives on Wednesday for her second session with Ben, with completed paperwork in hand. After briefly reviewing it, Ben asks Arizona how she is feeling, if she heard from Callie, and if there are any new issues. She perfunctorily replies: "Fine. No. Nothing," to the three questions.

Closing his binder, Ben stands, saying: "I think we're done for today."

"What? It's only been fifteen minutes; there's 45 minutes left. That's not how this works," Arizona crossly responds.

Ben, earnestly looking at her, replies: "So what? If we stop now or in an hour, the result is going to be the same."

Incredulous, Arizona retorts: "You're supposed to fix me! How does that happen if I leave?"

Ben, still standing, thoughtfully answers: "Arizona, you're a pediatric surgeon. Children unable to advocate for themselves are brought to you by parents and caregivers to fix them. They often don't have the ability to choose or to think for themselves. So, as adults, we do it for them, and generally they do as they're told. But you come to me, ask that I accommodate your schedule, which I do by making appointments late in the day, three times per week keeping me here away from my family, so you can get your family back. Then, you give me monosyllabic answers to my questions, like you're completing a multiple-choice quiz. You're not a child. You're an adult, able to speak for yourself and make choices, to be an active participant in your recovery."

Not clear on his message, she says, "I don't understand."

Hoping to rattle her cage and shake the pediatric surgeon from her numb state, Ben boldly challenges her: "Is this what you did with your wife? Did you assume she would fix what was broken? Is this how you've managed the months since the crash and your amputation? With you sitting passively observing your life like an armchair quarterback, expecting she would understand what you were feeling and thinking?"

Irate at her psychologist, the person she is paying to fix her, she barks: "You know; you're unprofessional. Obviously, you're not the right doctor for me," Arizona yells, standing. Gathering her things she walks to the door.

Ben confidently replies; "Arizona, there will never be a right doctor for you." Arizona stops dead in her tracks, her back to the psychologist.

"Do you understand how this is supposed to work? How counseling works?" Ben asks sincerely.

Arizona noticeably tenses at the word _'counseling'_. He continues: "Do you see coming here as a black mark in your file or some kind of weakness on your part? Does it lessen your ability to be in control to ask for help? Does admitting that things are falling apart make you feel less? Do you think that you are so perfect that you don't need help? How has that denial worked for you?"

Arizona drops her head, aware that her life is in shambles.

Ben's oration continues: "Arizona, you're not some superhero, impervious to life's trauma: shit happened to you. What happened was brutal beyond imagining. You are human; both strong and weak in varying measure. You've already overcome insurmountable odds. It takes extraordinary courage to admit you can't do this alone and you took a big first step to healing by walking through my door. But healing takes diagnosis, re-examining the injury before determining appropriate treatment, and recovery before discharge. It's going to get harder before it gets easier; _no pain, no gain_ as is often said."

Arizona remains frozen.

Ben adds; "You need to expose your wounds, and put yourself out there. Be vulnerable. Recovery is only possible if you share your deepest, darkest, emotions, memories and thoughts with me a complete, but qualified, stranger. This is a safe place; there's no judgment here. My role is to guide you on your journey of recovery. We're co-surgeons, if you will. You will need to trust me with your symptoms like you would a consulting physician."

Arizona's body language softens, indicating that he is making some headway, so he pushes further: "You must have had patients' parents fearful of what could happen to their child on your operating table who struggle to trust you. They overcame their fear because it was in the best interest of their child. This isn't that different. Really, I'm not going to fix you. You're going to fix yourself. Your reflection within these walls will pull out those feelings, emotions, and thoughts that are blocking you, allowing you to see them for what they are. Until you are willing to do that, it's pointless to waste our time. Ben Franklin said, 'Never confuse motion with action.' You are just going through the motions."

Arizona removes her hand from the doorknob. With tears streaming down her face, '_damn her authority issues,'_ she feels like a teenager on the receiving end of one of her father's "I'm disappointed in you" speeches. She is just going through the motions.

She says meekly: "I'm not sure I know how to do this."

Ben smiles. "Vulnerability is tough: it's like standing naked, alone, in front of a mirror; it's being honest with yourself, and stripping away the denial and avoidance."

Arizona nods her head.

Ben interjects into the long pause: "There is no quick fix. I'm willing to help you, but you need to be honest, and there's no game playing or posturing here. At the end of the day this is just my job but for you, it's your life, your future."

Taking a big breath Arizona turns around and makes her way back to her seat.

Ben gives Arizona an admiring glance: "So, shall we try again? How are you feeling?"

"Crappy, everyone is pissing me off. I can't sleep and I can't hold anything down. My apartment feels like a dungeon. Callie isn't in touch, but that's how we left it when we met Saturday. She said to fix myself and then let her know," Arizona says despondently.

"Ah, smart woman. 'Physician heal thyself'," Ben replies.

"Whose side are you on?" Arizona indignantly reacts.

Noting the anger laced voice, Ben questions: "So, you've decided this is a battle, where one person will vanquish the other?"

With her warped perspective placed before her, Arizona backs down. "No…I don't know why I said that."

Ben adds: "You've brought up an important issue that we'll explore later. Let's save that for another time. Tonight, let's talk about why you think she wants you to 'fix yourself'?"

"Callie said I needed help before I could be with Sofia on my own. She doesn't trust me. I've said things and done things . …I slept with someone else." Arizona divulges painfully.

Arizona proceeds to share the sordid details of her infidelity that were intentionally excluded from their initial consult as well as the cruel comments exchanged in the aftermath. She cringes, feeling exposed, as she recounts what transpired prior to the loss of her family but reluctantly accepts there is some relief to sharing her burden.

With their session winding down, Ben adds: "I gather from Monday and our conversation tonight that you seem to be, umm, flying solo so to speak?"

Arizona's eyes widen with his words.

"Sorry, bad analogy," he says apologetically. "What I want to know is do you have a support system in place either at work or outside of work?"

Arizona shrugs, shaking her head. Feeling like an embarrassed middle school outcast, she forces herself to acknowledge: "No one. I had Callie and by extension her friends. What relationships I did have fell by the wayside this past year. Except, maybe, my fellow, Alex."

"Okay," Ben answers sensing Arizona's feelings of inferiority. "Did you know that people battling PTSD often isolate themselves in an effort to avoid establishing emotional connections with others?"

She looks at him confused.

Ben explains, "Arizona, you were hurting so much already that you couldn't invest any emotional energy into any relationships. You seem to be someone who keeps feelings guarded. You moved a lot as a child, which must have been very hard. You probably needed to be your own best friend at times; you're not used to sharing freely because you might have to leave. Trust seems hard for you. Now add trauma to your experience, and not just a single event. I can see how you would find withdrawing initially easier."

Perusing her completed history, Ben adds, "Looking at your history, there seems to be a multitude of life events, one of which would crumble even the strongest person: your profession as a Pediatric surgeon that witnesses children dying despite the best medicine has to offer, your brother's death, the hospital shooting, almost losing Callie and your daughter in a car crash, finding out your childhood friend Nick was dying from cancer, losing your daughter's father after the crash, the amputation and all that followed. All these things built upon each other and weren't processed properly. While I don't condone infidelity, your actions are not a unique reaction to PTSD," Ben explains.

"PTSD? I don't think so. I met with a trauma counselor after the shooting. Callie was the one who had the gun pointed at her, not me. I don't have nightmares anymore; a little phantom leg pain maybe. I don't fly, but you can't fault me for that," Arizona attempts to deflect the memories her psychologist stirred.

"We can talk about PTSD more on Friday; our time is up for today. I have some homework for you. I want you to do something non-work related with someone else. It could be as simple as having lunch with a colleague, perhaps this Alex you mentioned. Can you do that by Friday?"

Arizona groans: "I'll try."

As Arizona prepares to walk through the door, Ben adds: "_Do or do not. There is no try._"

A small grin creeps across Arizona's face, "Yoda, really?"

"Hey, are you underestimating the significance of my fictional friends?" Ben jovially responds, relieved to see the gleam in Arizona's modest smile, knowing that, at least temporarily, he has shored up the pediatric surgeon's fragile walls.


	8. Chapter 8

Callie entered the sanctity of her lab after dropping Sofia off at daycare; her week progressing at a turtle's pace. Saturday left her drained, dragging, and distracted from Arizona's bombshell revelations; quite frankly, she is totally annoyed with her. Arizona seems selfishly unaware of how people, predominantly her wife, have bent over backwards to help get her on the right path after the accident.

Still bothered, Callie got what she asked for: Arizona's honesty. '_Careful what you wish for,_' she reminds herself. Arizona's failure to see the big picture and to throw her family away on a capricious, horny whim leaves Callie riled and troubled.

It is agonizing to recall Arizona's vocalizations: _'I don't want her because of the leg? She is my failure; my "lame and impotent conclusion"? Was that why she cheated?'_ thought Callie, not sure it really mattered anymore. The dirty deed was done.

Pacing around the lab fails to provide the distraction she wants. Her attempt to get her synthetic cartilage to the next stage is proving just as unproductive and infuriating as solving the mystery of her wife's betrayal.

Dr. Alicia Proficio momentarily waits by the lab door as she watches her young friend aimlessly amble about. It's her habit to pop in on non-teaching days, with coffee in hand, to check-up on her protégé under the guise of friendly chit-chat.

Callie Torres has worked very hard to maintain a calm, cool, self-reliant persona, but Alicia knows it will never last. Callie is more of a bull-in-the-china-shop creature; sometimes reckless, often spontaneous, passionate and at times, fiery.

"Good morning," Alicia kindly greets Callie as she enters handing her a cup of coffee.

"Hey, Dr. P, ah, Alicia," Callie replied, accepting the much needed offering, "thank you."

"You appear deep in thought. Has all the pacing helped you figure out the mechanism for implanting the cartilage yet?" Alicia questions.

Callie laughs. "No, I wish," she answers forlornly.

"Well, if it's not that, then it must be Arizona," Alicia easily deduced with Callie nodding in agreement.

"You know, Callie, I understand why you're here, in Pullman. I'm not saying I agree with your decision to go into hiding; just that I understand it. You and Arizona have had more than your share of challenges to deal with, but unless you manage your problems, they will manage you," Alicia begins counseling.

"My problem is Arizona. She needs to figure out her priorities, who she is. It's pretty clear she's changed. I told her that. We saw her Saturday and I told her she needs help if she wants time with Sofia. I need to know I can depend on her to be responsible. Alicia; she looks like hell. She told me she wishes she had died. I don't know who she is anymore, not that it's really my problem anymore," Callie painfully admits.

Alicia offers a thoughtful gaze, "Are you telling me that this is all on Arizona?"

And Callie responds with an _'are-you-kidding-me look'_ to her elder friend.

"Please don't take this the wrong way, Callie. There is no right way to manage any of this; I think you two did the best you could under the horrific circumstances of the last year. But Callie, at face value, it might be easier to lay the blame all on Arizona, but do you really believe that, deep down?" Alicia despondently but sensitively inquires.

"She cheated. We're married. It's pretty black and white, Alicia," Callie belligerently responds.

"So, that's your story and you're sticking to it? Was everything so perfect until that night?" the older woman soberly challenges.

"No, but we were getting there!" Callie yells before reigning in her tumultuous emotions.

"I mean I told Arizona countless times she was beautiful, desirable, and she was the same person as before the accident, just minus a leg. We were getting there, I thought Arizona finally recognized that," Callie justifies.

Alicia perks up with the new disclosure, "Are you hearing yourself? You, her wife, you're telling Arizona nothing's changed, except her leg. This isn't like switching to a new pocketbook, Callie. A leg is not an accessory, particularly for Arizona who is driven to perfectionism: top of her class at Hopkins, Chief Resident, one of the youngest doctors ever to run a department at a top tier teaching hospital. She is an attractive woman, and I would bet she prides herself on that, as well. She values distinction; she pursued you didn't she, you're considered 'hot' even by your students."

Callie is clearly uncomfortable with the words spoken, but Alicia is undeterred, "Everything has changed for her, except maybe your love for her. But she probably can't even gauge that since she most likely loathes her revised self-image. Everything is different for her, starting with how she views herself. Arizona views herself as an entirely different person, so with that logic, she assumes the world sees her as altered as well. This is like people with eating disorders; they perceive their emaciated torsos, when reflected in the mirror, as overweight. Did you two ever talk about what happened during the crash? Why the amputation happened?"

Callie shakes her head, "It was hard. Arizona didn't want to talk about any of it. She refused to attend settlement meetings. I wasn't about to push her on the subject. We were talking, just not about the crash or amputation. Honestly, I think we were both happy to leave it dormant," Callie says, dropping her shoulders in defeat.

Incredulous that two intelligent women, doctors no less, would not see the signs of post-traumatic stress unfold before them, Alicia attempts to illustrate her point, "You should know that a hibernating bear eventually wakes. Callie, did it ever occur to you that when you acted as the consummate cheerleader, telling her everything was fine and she was still perfect, that you were evading the truth because everything's changed in her mind?"

"To take this a step further," Alicia elaborates, "do you think that perhaps, subconsciously, you feel some inadequacy for not being able to save her leg? Maybe your words of cheer were for as much you as her?"

Brown eyes glare menacingly into the older woman, who is merely a messenger of truth.

Unfazed by Callie's gape, Alicia boldly pushes on, "She doesn't trust you, because she doesn't believe you; Arizona doesn't see herself as perfect, but you insist she is. She most likely feels that you have been patronizing her. You each have two different definitions of perfect. You both skirt having the hard conversation. In telling Arizona _'nothing'_ really changed, perhaps you've helped unintentionally push her to this corner?" Alicia probes hoping her words are not fruitless.

Provoked, Callie crossly demands, "What are you saying? That I caused this? It is my fault she slept with Lauren Boswell?"

The older doctor shakes her head, "Not exactly, Callie, you like to fix problems; it's the nature, and arrogance if you will, of a surgeon. You, naturally want it to be all better. On top of all this, you contended with the uncertainty of the plane's outcome, the crash, the leg, your friend Mark. You handled all those major problems, essentially solo. By comparison, Arizona may have felt she wasn't worthy of you or that she had anything left to contribute."

"Getting Arizona back on two feet was no big deal for you. Managing prosthetics and amputations are a day-to-day task for you, as an Orthopedic Surgeon. But you need to take off your clinical blinders and look at the problem from Arizona's perspective. While you see a person who has made incredible gains, she sees herself as someone entirely different: flawed, incomplete, imperfect. It is possible that Arizona feels enormous pressure to meet a standard she no longer feels she is capable of achieving? Her problems essentially began where yours left off," Dr. Proficio says.

Callie's frustration and anger rises with the awareness of what Alicia Proficio is driving at.

Alicia concludes her oration with two final questions, "I won't dispute that she callously and cruelly offered to cut your leg off with a bone saw amid what must have been an emotional maelstrom. Remember, there is a fine line between love and hate, but each of those emotions requires enormous it possible that she tried to verbalize, as best as she could at that cataclysmic moment, that the hell she lives with is unexplainable except to personally experience it? Is Arizona completely unable to even begin to articulate her life, her fears, her pain, and even her shame?"

Seeing Callie lost in thought, Alicia quietly leaves the lab,anticipating that Mt. Torres may erupt at any given moment. Callie's eyes reflect turmoil. She has yet to 'lose it' and it is only a question of time. Alicia knows departing and allowing her young friend some space to contemplate the conversation is the best and only choice for the moment. Having done her job, she sees the rest is up to Callie, and she only hopes that the other woman was ready to not only hear what she had to say but ready to tackle it as well.

xxxxxxx

* * *

Claustrophobic within the four walls of the lab, Callie storms out seeking relief. Being forced by Dr. Proficio to ruminate on her own actions as well as Arizona's is troubling and suffocating. The fresh air and picturesque landscape provide immediate comfort as she starts out on an impromptu walk across the Pullman grounds, towards the hiking trails. Aware of only what is in front of her, Callie marches forward, not bothering to look where her feet are taking her.

"What the fu...?" She yelps as her feet slide suddenly out from under her.

Hearing commotion in the background, the rider turns around only to witness an unplanned acrobatic tumble made by a clearly flustered woman, causing her to land on her backside. He feels a bit guilty for finding the whole sight comical. Not to mention, his horse left the booby trap which initiated the scene.

Tears replace fury and she is immobilized by the humiliating moment. Adding insult to injury, Callie looks down to see she is sitting squarely on a pile of horse dung.

"I would give you at least an eight for that creative move," the man says as he dismounts his horse and cautiously approaches the tearful woman. "Are you okay?"

"Are you really asking me that question? I am sitting in horse manure, and I couldn't even make a fool of myself alone, I had to have an audience," Callie irritably replies, her tears have now been dried by frustration.

"I guess it's safe to say you're having a crappy day," he offers humorously.

She is just about to react with a biting reply when she realizes his jest, causing her to laugh. "You don't even know the half of it. Yes, this day started off shitty, and it is only getting worse," as she holds her hands up as evidence.

"My name is Jeff," he starts to extend his hand to shake, but quickly retracts it as he views her soiled hands. "I guess I should apologize for my horse, but you were on the horse trails."

"Horse trails? I can't even take a walk without screwing it up, unfreakin' believable," she mumbles as she shakes her head in annoyance. Looking up at the man with a sheepish grin, she says, "I'm Callie. Nice to meet you, though I wish it were under different circumstances."

Jeff walks over to her to help her stand, "Are you kidding, rescuing damsel in distress. This is every guy's dream."

Callie shakes her head in disbelief, "I can't remember one story where the princess is covered in poop. Believe me, I am well-versed in princess tales."

Gallantly, Jeff removes his button up flannel shirt, offering it to her so she can tie it around her waist, so she can hide her stained bottom. "Can I at least walk you back to… wherever you're going? It may be presumptuous of me, but given your...plight," he comments as he points to her clothing, "I'm thinking your walk, or whatever you were doing, is over," Jeff says thoughtfully, hoping his company back to campus would be welcomed and it might lessen the embarrassment of being covered in horse excrement.

A warm smile of relief finds its way to Callie's face, "Rough morning, I was just letting off a bit off steam. My less than graceful fall has left me fairly deflated, so I'd say mission accomplished." The two new acquaintances, accompanied by the culpable horse, stroll back to the campus, chatting away.

Xxxxxx

* * *

A few hours later, there is a knock on her mentor's office door, "Come in."

Alicia offers a warm, but smug smile, unsurprised by her visitor. Callie plops down in the armchair across from Alicia's desk, and slinks down.

"I hate it when you do that," Callie blurts.

Eyebrows furrowed, Alicia replies, "Do what?"

"You know exactly what. You are making me figure it out. I hated in school, and I hate it now," Callie sullenly answers. "You could have told me those things in the coffee shop the day I arrived."

"Yes, I could have, but you weren't ready to hear it then," Alicia advises.

Despairingly Callie asks, "Now what am I supposed to do?"

"Well, I would start by taking your own advice," Alicia nonchalantly responds. She uses a casual tone hoping Callie would conclude, as she did the day of Callie's arrival, what is quite obviously not only the next step but also a necessary step in the process, and really no big deal.

Callie processes the advice for a minute or so while Alicia patiently sits watching the wheels turn. Callie looks at her mentor, "You're talking about counseling, aren't you?"

Alicia nods in affirmation, "At least you are not as stubborn as you used to be. I wasn't planning on you reaching this stage of enlightenment until at least tomorrow," she smiles as she hands Callie a piece of paper.

Callie studies the sheet; three names and numbers are listed. Staring at her friend, dumbfounded, she struggles to formulate a question.

Alicia preempts her, "They're all good."

Exhaling a loud sigh, Callie responds, "Fine," allowing for the possibility that maybe, just maybe, she has misinterpreted Arizona's cryptogram.

Xxxxx

* * *

Arizona makes her way to the ER in search of Owen. Accepting that she is going to remain in counseling, she knows that she needs to share with him, as the Chief of Staff, that she is currently under the care of a psychologist.

This is not the hospital's first rodeo in terms of trauma counseling; Arizona assumes her current treatment would just be a continuation of the counseling the survivors required post plane crash, since it is presumably crash related. Arizona easily earned clearance when she initially returned to work; it wasn't her first rodeo either. She knew the drill having undergone the required post-shooting trauma counseling. She knew what the therapist wanted to hear, so that is what the therapist heard. This time she is going to try a more candid approach.

Since the previous clearance, hospital ownership has changed, as a department head currently in counseling, assumes accountability protocols are still in place. It is a voluntary decision on her part to enter counseling, which is encouraged in the medical profession, to be proactive. She is not about to risk her license to a snafu in communication, so she wants to be on record and decides confiding in Owen will help avoid making this a board agenda item.

"Owen, do you have a minute?" Arizona asks.

Owen looks at her warmly; sightings of Arizona have been scarce these last weeks. Understanding her mayhem, he believes she needed her space and would surface when she is ready. "Arizona, good to see you. Sure, we can talk."

"Privately," she emphasizes.

He walks to an empty exam room and holds the door open for her.

"Okay, what can I do for you?" he asks.

"Well, I just wanted to go officially on record that I'm seeing a psychologist. I know we are required to disclose. It was my choice to seek help. I do not believe my ability to do my job as a doctor or surgeon is currently impacted by this," she states as confidently as possible. It is, however, easy for Owen to see that the pediatric surgeon is self-conscious by her disclosure.

"You are? That's good," he stammers.

"Good?" she questions.

"Arizona, I never thought you had come to terms with the plane crash and all that followed. The PTSD, it's a demon that needs to be expelled. I will need check with our legal department to see how to document this, but it will remain confidential. There is a procedure to follow. Who are you seeing?"

"Dr. Ben Alexander," she shares.

Owen nods, "I'm not familiar with him. But, we will need for him to issue a report, clearing you for duty. Do you like him?"

"He is pretty good, not easy to dupe. I think he knows his stuff," she honestly answers.

Owen smiles, "Well, if there is anything I can do for you, just ask."

Relief painting her face, Arizona adds, "Well, actually there is. Would you have lunch with me? I need to….I'm supposed to do something non-work related with someone before my appointment this afternoon."

"So Dr. Alexander has already figured out you've gone into hiding," Owen concludes.

"Something like that, navigating the shark-infested waters of the cafeteria alone is a bit scary," Arizona says with a shrug.

"Let's go," Owen genuinely offers, as he holds the door open for her.

Smiling, Arizona and Owen walk towards the café, making small talk. As the two near the entrance, Owen's pager goes off, "Excuse me," he says, stepping to the side to make a follow-up call on his cell phone.

Arizona lingers by the café entrance, not sure she has the fortitude to venture further unaccompanied. Deciding her next move, with the 5pm appointment looming; she determines she is not going to fail at the first task Dr. Alexander assigned.

"Are you slumming it Robbins?" she hears behind her.

She freezes upon hearing her name, slowly turning around.

"It seems you are on the wrong side of the tracks or did the coffee cart on the entire other side of the hospital run out of food?" Bailey questions in a cheeky tone.

"Miranda…" Arizona acknowledges timidly.

"Nice to see you Arizona and I'm not just being polite," Bailey amiably offers.

"Thank you," Arizona responds in earnest.

"You know Arizona, we're a family, sometimes a dysfunctional one at that. We get angry with each and bicker, but we support each other and love each other despite it all," Bailey sermonizes.

Arizona drops her head, then raises it, she looks Miranda Bailey in the eye, offering her a grateful smile.

"So you've decided to reintegrate into society? I'll block for you. I hear it's best to stick with the soup and salad today; the Chef's Surprise will leave you with more than you bargained for," Bailey suggests teasingly.

"Miranda, I really appreciate it, I do," Arizona says genuinely.

Bailey points to the corner table where Cristina, Meredith, and Derek are sitting, "Well, shall we join them?"

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," Arizona replies.

As Arizona sits down, Cristina stands up, but before Cristina can say a word, Bailey intercedes, "If you can't say anything nice Yang, don't say anything at all."

"Then, I guess I better go," snarky Cristina blurts and walks away.

Raising her eyebrows, Arizona understands that Cristina Yang's allegiance is to Callie, not her. It would be ludicrous to expect Cristina to welcome her back with open arms, but the cold shoulder stung just the same.

Arizona takes her seat, keeping Bailey securely at her side.

"Have you heard from Callie?" Meredith sincerely asks.

Arizona shakes her head, indicating yes, "We met up on Saturday."

Pausing, Arizona answers, "She and Sofia are fine. Callie is…..figuring it out. I am doing that too."

Derek finally speaks, asking the dreaded but necessary question regarding their absent friend, "Arizona, where is she?"

"I'm not sure, we met in Ellenburg. I didn't ask, it didn't come up," she honestly replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"Alright, the inquisition is over for today. I am sure that Arizona will keep us posted on Callie and Sofia. Now, the soup is surprisingly good, don't you think? Did any of you see that Seahawks game Sunday? That was what I call a football game," Bailey says, as the foursome continues to eat their lunch.

* * *

A/N: A quick thank you for reading, reviewing and following this story, the support is most appreciated. Those who have taken the time to pass along their thoughts through a review or PM, many thanks for taking the time to do so.


	9. Chapter 9

**Mid-story A/N:** _You have endured a few back-to-back, emotionally draining chapters for this story; thank you for reading them, I know, they're deep. I wanted to add my thoughts behind them. I didn't start out thinking there would be so much anguish in this many chapters. After season 9, I was a bit annoyed that Shonda Rhimes would attribute Arizona's seemingly abrupt choices to PTSD. But, I was willing to give SR the benefit of the doubt, and I decided to see if I could envision a scenario that would allow for that justification. The more I considered it and read on the subject, the more I have decided it is possible. As some of you have noted, this story believes that it was not a spontaneous action but an unwitting evolution of unfortunate circumstances and poor choices on all sides (Grey-Sloan included). I have no medical expertise, just what I have read and experienced through life, so this story is my own conclusion and I understand that not everyone will share the same perspective. Thank you for sticking with it; it is more complicated and involved than I anticipated originally. As I better understand the circumstances of PTSD, I have found less frustration with the storyline and characters, and more compassion - which was my original goal. Some of you have shared your thoughts on this subject matter/storyline, allowing me to gain a more balanced perspective, so thank you for that._

_Please hang in there. With the dirty laundry almost all aired, the process of healing can continue to find its way to these two. Thank you._

* * *

Now in her second week, Arizona is somewhat miffed that her fear of counseling far exceeds the reality of it. She supposes it is the unknown that scares her; that unleashed emotions may wreak their havoc on her, thus diminishing her capacity to be in control.

She likes control; being in charge. In the past, when she _'lost'_ control, her feelings took charge, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. So, she has learned over the years to compartmentalize these disarming emotions. At this point, her psyche is adept at banishing the unwanted sentiment to the inner crypt of her mind.

Begrudgingly, counselling is tolerable; Ben is good at his job. She accepts this as her only next step; she has no choice but '_to lean into the pain'_, as the Dalai Lama suggests.

It is not all painful but it is a struggle relinquishing the driver's seat. Ben often poses unanticipated questions. She is certain he pats himself on the back each time she flexes her eyebrow with an unanticipated query.

"Arizona, I want to propose a change in venue to Grey-Sloan for Friday's appointment," Ben advises.

The hairs on her neck tingle. "Why?" Arizona replies, definitely wary of his suggestion.

"I thought we could get your patient chart, sit with the Chief to review the timeline and facts objectively regarding the amputation of your leg. Despite our discussions and reflections, the source of the anger you hold towards Callie is ill-defined. I think it's important to review events from her medical perspective. Remember, the goal is to get time with Sofia. Your actions and words cut Callie deeply and made her not trust you. I see you're eating and sleeping a bit better but you're still angry, and we need to rein that in," Ben explains.

"She left; she bailed this time. I have no idea where they are. This should be _our_ problem, not my problem," Arizona fumes in response.

Ben, cognizant of the sensitivity of the topic, cautiously continues, "It seems to me that you placed Callie on a pedestal of infallibility, as if she had a magic wand that could seamlessly repair the damage. When the magic wand failed, your anger let loose. I'm suggesting we walk in her medical footsteps for this exercise. Perhaps Dr. Hunt could help us. Let's just see what story the facts tell."

Arizona mulls over the request.

Ben interjects: _"If no mistake have you made, yet losing you are … a different game you should play."_

Arizona throws Ben an exasperated look upon hearing another Star Wars reference. Her facial expressions make it clear; his citation is obnoxious.

Despite her discomfort, Ben pushes through, "The point is that you might be wrong about Callie, or worse, you might be right. I've been doing this a long time and of one thing I'm certain; true healing starts with total honesty. If you're angry with Callie for the sake of being angry, well that's your choice; if you are angry because she erred in medical judgment, that's something else entirely. It's important to discover and identify why you are so angry."

Body language indicates she concedes the point. "Okay, I'll speak with Owen and set it up," Arizona finally agrees.

Her type A personality is taking a beating lately, much to her chagrin.

xxxx

* * *

Thursday, Callie returns home with Sofia to find her eager to play outside. After this morning's manure escapade, Callie had enough of "outside," but happily observes her daughter traipse about the backyard. She pulls out the paper Alicia gave her earlier this afternoon and stares at the names, all associated with the same practice.

Alicia raised feasible considerations explaining Arizona's actions of late, but it just plain pissed Callie off that she could even be remotely blamed for Arizona's choices.

Acknowledging the year has been hellish, an objective ear listen to her rant could only help. As much as she respects Alicia, she questions her impartiality. When Callie first introduced Alicia to Arizona, Alicia clearly approved of her mate and Dr. Alicia Proficio is not an easy woman to please. Best case scenario is counselling will help her feel vindicated; worse case she will feel vilified. Callie knows she must make the call, if only not to disappoint her mentor.

So with Sofia playing happily on the swings, she dials the number on the sheet, hoping the office hours ended at 4pm; thus allowing her task to be postponed.

Unsurprisingly, given how her day went, the phone is answered and Callie makes an appointment for next week.

Xxxxx

* * *

Friday afternoon Arizona waits impatiently in the conference room for Ben. Her medical records are showcased on the table; taunting her, ready to bare all. She never peeked inside or desired to know what lay between the transcribed sheets. Voices startle her; Ben enters the room with Owen.

"I met Dr. Alexander on the way in; we've already made our introductions," Owen offers.

"Yes, well, thank you Dr. Hunt for agreeing to meet with us. I truly believe this is a necessary step in Arizona's recovery, regardless of what we conclude after reading the documents," Ben reasons.

Owen smiles, "The truth can be liberating…"

"Or devastating," Arizona interjects.

The next hour is spent perusing the documents. Ben finally speaks up, "In a nutshell, is it fair to conclude from what we have reviewed and discussed so far that:

1) Boise recommended amputation as treatment for Arizona's bone injuries and soft tissue infection but Arizona refused consent; requesting that she be returned to Seattle and have Dr. Torres determine the appropriate course of treatment;

2) Despite aggressive antibiotic treatment, the infection persisted, prolonging recovery and potentially leading to loss of vascularity, nerve damage and muscle atrophy; Dr. Torres made a plan to save the leg at Arizona's request;

3) You, Dr. Hunt, advised that even if the leg was saved, it would never be the same;

4) Despite triple antibiotics, pressers, aggressive IV fluids, intubation, and hydrocortisone, Arizona fell into septic shock from the infection, creating a life-threatening crisis; the only options were to amputate the leg or let Arizona die."

Arizona perks up upon hearing the second to last item, "What do you mean _'it would never be the same'_?"

"Without the amputation, you would have required long-term rehab, you would have suffered chronic pain and you would have experienced a poorer quality of life than with a prosthetic," Owen states with certitude.

Shaking her head in disbelief, "What does that even mean?" she caustically asks.

"Did you ever watch ER? You know the character, Dr. Kerry Weaver, the doctor with a physical disability? In all likelihood, that would have been the best-case scenario for you. You would have required a cane or crutch and certainly you would have walked with a limp. The damage to your leg, which set in over those four days, would never heal 100%," Owen describes.

Arizona falls back into her chair, closing her eyes. Easily picturing the character on the TV drama hobbling about the hospital, cane in hand, while performing her medical duties, Arizona bites her lip in frustration. She mentally acknowledges she has better mobility with her prosthetic than Dr. Kerry Weaver did with an intact limb.

Ben sits quietly, observing the interaction between the two colleagues, astonished that Arizona is hearing some of this for the first time.

Shaking his head, Owen attempts to explain the decision, "Look Arizona, there is something you should know; it's not in these records. Initially, I refused to even consider Callie's plan; she was too emotionally involved. The plan was risky, a long-shot, but viable, though not necessarily a cure-all. Callie was persistent, adamant. She argued with me. I will never forget her words: _'I don't think I will ever get her back if we cut off that leg.'_ Eventually, I relented, but you started seizing due to septic shock before your scheduled surgery. Her words were prophetic, don't you think? She knew exactly how you would react to an amputation. But first and foremost, it was your life she valued. It's why she authorized Alex to do it."

"What do you mean, Alex?" Arizona irately responds.

Owen quickly looks at Dr. Alexander, not sure he should continue upon seeing Arizona physically tremble, but Ben nods 'yes'. "Arizona, you deteriorated while Callie was in the middle of Derek's surgery. Alex went to your room to update you on Stewart's progress, and say good-bye since he was leaving for Hopkins. While in the room, you started seizing, you were dying. Alex interrupted Callie's surgery to tell her. Despite aggressive treatment, there were only two options left: amputation or death. Callie chose amputation to save your life, and Alex made the cut."

The new information leaves Arizona in shambles, her eyes glassy with tears that spill over onto her cheeks. She sits, shocked and speechless.

Owen further reveals, "Arizona, she buried you once. When she got news of the crash, in her head and mine too, you were all dead. They couldn't find you. Do you know that the chance of finding any of you alive after the first day dropped to 50%? Each day you were missing the prospect of rescue decreased by 25%? At four days, it appeared futile. I saw her grief, her pain, and devastation when she thought she lost you. But then, you were found, a reprieve. Callie knows what it is like for you die. She experienced that loss and was willing to do anything to not go through it again, even if it meant amputating the limb and breaking her promise. She valued your life over her promise."

Stunned by the harrowing apocalypse, Arizona finally manages to eke out: "Alex cut off my leg?"

Owen nods in confirmation. "He did. Callie never told you because you were so angry with her, and you were at least starting to repair your relationship with Alex. She felt no good would come from the disclosure. She was already the bad guy and Alex seemed like your only confidant."

Arizona sits, remembering the barbs she threw at Callie: _"How the hell am I supposed to snap out of this when you cut off my leg?...You weren't shy about making other decisions for me…It's not a decision that I should be making for you as opposed to hacking off a limb and that's the kind of decision I should make for you…You did this, I can't even pee by myself!"_

Owen sees this as an opportune time to excuse himself, since this was obviously shaping up to be a doctor/patient moment, "Dr. Alexander, do you need me anymore? There are a few things I need to take care of."

"We're good Dr. Hunt. Thank you," Ben replies.

"Just leave the file in my office when you're done," Owen requests, as he walks out of the conference room.

"Arizona, you need to talk to me. This isn't the time to shutdown, please," Ben presses, worried about where this conversation is taking his patient.

"I'm struggling to figure this out. I always thought Callie made the cut. She lied about that," she says.

Ben questions: "I don't understand where you are coming from? Why are your fixated on that one piece? Medically, what would you have done differently? If that happened to Callie, and you had to choose between losing her forever and removing a limb, what would you have done?"

Arizona knows the answer. This was Africa morphed into another scenario. She left Callie; the three-year assignment may as well have been forever; she was miserable without Callie. How did she describe it to Callie? _'But I'm crying, constantly….I miss my girlfriend, like I really miss her'._

_'Shit,'_ she thinks,_ 'this really sucks.'_

Shaking her head and resigned to the fact that there was only one decision to be made: "I would have authorized amputation," Arizona says indignantly.

Ben, concerned his patient is shutting him out, chooses to push harder, "You said you wanted your family back, which I interpret to be Callie and Sofia. You've been miserable since they left and have been clear that you don't want to be in a relationship with Lauren Boswell. You've just heard Owen detail Callie's devastation at your supposed death. She selflessly saves your life, knowing that she may lose you. And yet, you're still annoyed. What am I missing? Arizona, I meant it when I said no game playing. I need you to answer my question."

She hollers: "Look at me! Why would she even want me? Do you know how many people want Callie? People talk, I'm not going to be enough for her. I'm damaged goods."

"Did she say that?" Ben pauses: "Well, did she?" Ben raises his voice at her the second time after getting no reaction.

"No, she didn't. But what difference would it make? I'm not the person I used to be. I'm broken. I'm certainly never going to be a decent person; she died in the crash," she screams back.

"Okay. Now we're getting somewhere," Ben says encouragingly.

"I don't understand?" Arizona blurts in frustration.

"You are finally being honest. You are scared that you're no longer physically enough for Callie. You see yourself as flawed. Rather than acknowledge the fear, and show your vulnerability, you lash out at Callie."

A vacant look remains on Arizona's face, "I still don't understand."

Ben moves to sit next to Arizona, "Let me explain how PTSD works. Think of it like flesh eating strep; these bacteria infiltrate the healthy cells, consuming more and more of the body. PTSD does the same thing. It tries to ruin what is healthy in your life, making you feel unworthy, unlovable, and beyond redemption. The ultimate goal of PTSD is to isolate you. You are suffering from PTSD, and probably some depression. Life as you knew it is now gone. How you relate to yourself, to others and how they relate to you all has changed. Unfortunately, as a doctor, you were given too much leeway on self-management. The same is true for Callie; she was too vested in your care. Objectively, if your were the doctor on this case, and not the patient, you would have insisted on more than just PT and OT post-surgery; you would have required considerable psychological counseling as well."

Ben continues, "It's an aggregate effect. First, there is self-incrimination: you said that you put yourself on the plane. Then, survivor guilt: you lived, while Mark and Lexi died. Compounding those understandable and expected feelings, you saw Callie as infallible, truly believing she could fix you, as she promised. There is denial as well; you were not willing to hear a plan that included amputation as an option. You refuted your long-term prognosis. Finally, post-amputation, you see yourself as flawed and damaged. We have the ingredients for PTSD: guilt, denial, anger, depression, shame. All of this was exacerbated by your avoidance of those pesky emotions like fear and shame; you refused to talk about it, lashing out instead. Callie, seeing your reactions, chose to gloss over it, hoping things would improve on their own," Ben elaborates.

"When you explain it that way, I can understand the PTSD. But I don't understand why it makes me so angry with Callie and why I chose to sleep with someone else," Arizona probes.

Ben illuminates further, "While you suffered a major physical trauma, there have been other situations in your life that added to your emotional damage: the loss of your brother and the ensuing expectations as the only surviving child, the code of altruism that you were raised with, and how that defines you and your choices; your friend's terminal cancer and your colleagues' deaths. Often people have the coping strategies to find resilience and bounce back in a relatively short time, a smaller of percentage of trauma victims don't. Those who cannot come to grips with unresolved challenges often fall into the PTSD diagnosis. You struggled with a horrendous combination of circumstances, making it hard for you to recover. You were shell-shocked by all of these issues, so your body went into isolation mode."

"Isolation? I slept with someone else, that's not exactly isolation," Arizona queries.

"Arizona," Ben considerately offers, "you are an independent person. The injury took that away, at least initially; thus your resentment of Callie. You refused outside help, so not only was she the caretaker, but you believed it was Callie who physically removed your leg, creating the dependency. You live with a physical, painful reminder every day of being irrevocably altered. It hurts daily, physically and mentally."

"Everything you do is now different, starting with getting out of bed in the morning. I also think you feel shame. You see yourself as less, and worry that people, in particular Callie, will believe that too. You detached yourself in an attempt to dull the pain. You isolated yourself emotionally, physically and even sexually, rather than address your difficult feelings. Your history indicates detachment has been a long-standing coping mechanism for you," Ben suggests. "You keep mentioning Callie bailed this time. Bailing seems a sore spot for you and again looking at your history, it seems another mechanism you resort to. Am I correct to think this?" He looks at Arizona for confirmation

Arizona squirms in her seat, unable to disagree. Arizona nods her head in agreement. "Mark Sloan told me I bail when things get tough; he was right," she acknowledges.

"Callie managed everything and you let her. Then, you had no idea how to regain your independence. You grew to resent her," the psychologist states.

Arizona, knee pulled to her chest, shakes her head. "But I cheated. I chose to cheat. I'm not sure why in that moment it seemed like an option."

"Adultery is a form of numbing. Some people with PTSD turn to pornography or even adultery, to regain intimacy, as contradictory as that may seem. PTSD victims sometimes need to lose some control to achieve sexual intimacy. You may have been fearful that Callie would reject you, or scared the sexual experience may no longer be as mutually satisfying as it once was, or unsure if it would be too physically painful."

Ben continues to patiently explain, "In my opinion, at that point, you no longer viewed your relationship with Callie as a sexual one. You saw yourself as dependent on Callie and viewed her as the caregiver. Perhaps, Callie doing or saying whatever to placate you, her words became meaningless. Even though you've evolved to more independence, it is not uncommon for a trauma victim to be unable shake the view of his or her partner as anything but a caretaker, not exactly sensually stimulating."

Gingerly continuing, he says: "Dr. Boswell's interactions with you were as equals. When she flattered and seduced you, you finally felt the stirring of your sexuality, a sensation that had been long inert. This wasn't Callie trying to flatter you. This was a person, aware of your prosthetic, yet still infatuated. You impulsively jumped at the chance to explore your physical intimacy with an unknown who had nothing to measure it against. Even if the tryst was botched, it mattered little to you what Lauren Boswell thought; you had no emotional connection to her. This had less to do with the other woman and everything to do with you needing to feel confident with your sexual self, to test the waters without the fear of rejection or failure by your wife."

Stunned by Ben's explanation, Arizona immediately thinks back to Lauren Boswell's words. _'It's okay to lose control.'_ Arizona, giving Ben a panicked look, hoarsely says. "That's what she said. Lauren said that it is okay to lose control. But it wasn't really that good, the sex; it wasn't. Making love is different than having sex."

Still reeling from Ben's assessment, Arizona says. "I wasn't even supposed to be on that plane; it was my own fault. I was so mad at Alex for choosing Hopkins and upset with Nick for not taking better care of his health that I idiotically put myself on that plane. Now, you are saying I sabotaged my own marriage, too?" she responds, taken back by his insinuation.

"I'm saying PTSD put you in a state that allowed your mind to make choices that never would have been on your radar before the crash. Even the nurses hired to help you: it says you threw things at them and fired them? You felt devalued and ashamed of your body, so you got rid of them. Callie took full responsibility for your care, so logically she was the target of your blame. You don't fire your wife, but you also don't want to lose her. If we consider her functional role, she was the glue keeping everything together," Ben answers in a very solemn tone.

Defeated and teary, Arizona replies, "It doesn't change what I did."

Ben nods in agreement, "It doesn't, but that's what therapy is for; to heal. We're debriding damaged emotions within you so you can be healthy. What I am asking of you is to be courageous, because that is what it requires to share all those feelings with me. Hopefully, you will have the chance to share them with Callie, too."

Arizona then asks the million-dollar question, "What about Sofia?"

Ben ponders her enquiry, silently thinking, _'This was an unexpectedly painful session, but she is still composed.'_

"How do you want to handle that? Do you think you are ready to care for her?"

Irked, Arizona states: "I've always thought I could care for her. Can I ask Callie to call you? I'm sure she won't believe me."

"Well," he says, as he pulls a business card from his wallet, "why don't you send Callie my card and ask her to call me. Here, sign this waiver. Most likely, she won't be in touch before our Monday session, when we can talk about it more then. I don't see any red flags. But honestly, you need to have a support system here, in case you need a backup plan and find yourself out of sorts. I'm assuming the daycare arrangement you had before is still in place? Callie needs to be assured that other people have their eyes on the situation, until her trust in you, regarding Sofia, is restored. That will be your homework for the weekend."

Despite the painful two-hour appointment, a glimmer of light finally appears. Arizona takes what is offered as enough, for now. "I'm sorry we went so long. I didn't mean to cut into your family time, especially on a Friday night," she apologetically tells Ben as they leave the conference room.

"Hey, it comes with the territory, you know that," Ben says smiling. "Plus, you made some huge gains today.

While the truth is difficult to acknowledge, she knows she is on the mend, "I have."

_'Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering'._ It's time to leave the dark side, don't you think?" he suggests.

Arizona is flummoxed that a little, green, fictional character is now acting as her beacon, "I do. One question: do you see yourself as Hans Solo or Luke Skywalker?"

Ben chuckles at her inquiry; "Neither, I'm Obi Wan."

Arizona looks at him confused.

"_Ben_ Kenobi….," he states with a smirk, leaving Arizona amused as he leaves her.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note:_ Yes, another lengthy author's note, sorry. I've been blessed with multiple, extensive reviews on this story, which is terrific, appreciated and helpful. Believe me, I get that Arizona may not be going the 'traditional' route of therapy. As one reviewer mentioned, therapists take all sorts of avenues to reach their patients. In my mind Ben has to bring the 'mountain to Mohammed', so to speak. Arizona is a brilliant surgeon, married to a brilliant surgeon, and owns a hospital with a group of brilliant surgeons, and yet, even with the brilliance, they all failed to see or anticipate PTSD? So, yes, I hit her over the head with it by way of Ben. _

_This was done for a few reasons. First, September's coming. This story's useful life will cease once Season 10 starts, and Shonda Rhimes starts playing with our heads again. Second, realistically as one reader pointed out, Arizona, in all likelihood, will need years of therapy. Unfortunately, there is no quick fix for PTSD and the other psychological conditions that accompany it, (a person with PTSD often suffers from other challenges as well, such as depression). I would lose you all as readers if I followed along the snail's pace that therapy could possibly take for her. Let's face it; Arizona has had a lot of trauma in her short life. Third, the goal I'm striving for, is rather than present the issues piecemeal, I personally found them easier to grasp if I viewed them collectively; so the whole picture was presented at one time. Only a trained professional could explain it that way. _

_The bottom line is that this story is fiction, the characters make-believe and I have taken a bit of literary license in presenting it. PTSD is very real and I have tried to present it as realistically and accurately as I could (remember, I'm not a trained professional). At times, trauma victims do choose methods of numbing like adultery. I do not condone infidelity; however, after writing this, I am much more compassionate with people who struggle with that in their lives. It's not a black and white issue; it's 'grey' (sorry, couldn't resist). Essentially, I like the show and Callie & Arizona. I don't want to be upset with either character, or the show. So, understanding how this might have happened will go a long way for me in moving beyond the transgressions to just enjoying the roller coaster of drama that Greys will surely be giving us come September. Thank you to all who continue to read, follow and share your comments._

xxxxx

* * *

xxxxx

Chapter 10

Arizona returns home, attempting to reconcile the conflicting thoughts the session at Grey-Sloan presented. Yes, she was angry, often. It was unplanned, unintentional, she didn't mean to lambaste Callie or shun her. Yes, she lashed out at Callie. Deep down she knew there were no other medical options but for Callie to cut-off her leg. Correction, for Callie to allow her leg to be cut-off. Was Ben right? Had she been in denial this whole time? Had she put Callie on a pedestal, expecting her to perform a miracle?

It just happened; actually, the anger still is happening.

'Why if Callie could fix everything, she fixed Derek afterall, couldn't she figure that out for me? I needed her to do that for me; fix me, and make me whole again,' she thought, still not recognizing the flaws in her logic. 'Callie always made me feel better', but not this time.

"It wasn't suppose to be like this," she lamented aloud to herself. "There's no going back. I've lost my leg and Callie has left," she reasoned. "I'm not losing Sofia too." Resolving to let Callie know she was ready to see her daughter, she sat down to write.

_**Dear Callie,**_

_**I've done what you've requested of me. I am seeing a counselor. His name is Dr. Alexander. He specializes in trauma counseling. I've seen him six times now, with no end in sight because I realize how important this step truly is. I want to be with Sofia please; I'm ready. I'm really ready. Dr. Alexander thinks so, too. His card is in the envelope. He suggested you call him. The waivers have been signed, so he can speak with you about me. There are no more secrets; I want no more secrets, please.**_

_**I would like to take Sofia next weekend. I miss her and you too. I miss you both. We need to discuss the details of meeting. Call me, please.**_

_**I'm so sorry Callie. It was a mistake. Please believe me.**_

_**Arizona**_

Planning to mail her note first thing in the morning, she prays Callie would respond sooner than later. While the process of dismantling her repugnant emotions is understandably unsettling, there is some relief in facing the monster within her. Expelling the despicable parasite is challenging and she is set to persevere. She has lost so much; giving up would mean conceding there is nothing left to live for and if she didn't allow herself to die in the woods, she couldn't do that now. She needed to get well, if not for herself, then for her daughter.

xxxxx

* * *

Xxxxxx

Anxiously awaiting the anticipated phone call from Callie, Arizona's Monday appointment could not come fast enough. More than aware of her internal, ongoing agitation, she knows facing this beast within gives her the ability to manage it better and truly heal.

"Hi Ben," she greets her therapist as she enters his office.

"Arizona. You look pretty chipper today," he answers, surprised by her positivity.

She shrugs, "I'm trying. I sent Callie a note, and I hope she calls."

Raising his eyebrows, giving a 'we will see' look, Ben continues, "We covered a lot of territory on Friday. Let's go over some of that. Stating the obvious, you two seem to struggle with communication. Or maybe since the crash you lost that ability?"

"No, it's always been an issue. We avoid our issues with limited conversation and a lot of makeup sex," Arizona embarrassingly explains.

"Can you elaborate a bit further, maybe an example or two?" Ben inquires. Arizona looks at him in shock.

Realizing her misinterpretation, Ben informs her, "I mean the issues that were hard to talk about. I don't want details about your sex life," he quickly clarifies. "However, at some point we'll need to talk about physical intimacy."

A forced laugh leaves Arizona's mouth: "Children. Mark. Africa."

"Well, how about exotic lands for $300?" Ben suggests.

"Okay," her eyes fix on him intently. "I won the Carter Madison grant to work in Malawi. I applied before I even met Callie, but I never really thought I would win, so I never told her about it. I always had this big dream of saving tiny humans, changing healthcare and having unlimited money to do it; particularly in a Third World country. The Carter Madison grant was my dream come true, but it meant working in Africa for three years."

"And…" Ben prods. "Breathe Arizona...just breathe," Ben interjects.

Closing her eyes, Arizona breathes deeply, calming herself before continuing, "At first we fought about me accepting the grant and Callie was quite angry with me, thinking I wasn't happy. But later, she decided to go with me. I remember how happy I was that I didn't have to choose between Africa and Callie; we'd be doing this together. So, we quit our jobs, putting our stuff in storage and we sublet the apartment. Callie was...she didn't even say she was proud of me. She was whiny and passive-aggressive, not just with me, with everyone; she was struggling with her decision but..."

"In the airport, Callie was going on and on...convincing herself what a great opportunity this was medically. I finally snapped and told her I didn't want to go to Africa with her; that she was ruining my dream. She tried to reason with me, but I shut her down. I dumped Callie in the airport before we even got on the plane. She was willing to give up her dream for mine, but we didn't process or talk about how that impacted her; I didn't want to address it, neither of us did. I lost patience with her. Finally, she suggests we talk on the plane, I didn't think it would matter. It seemed like a moot point. I told her to stay and be happy and that I'd go to Africa and be happy. I broke up with her before we even boarded."

Arizona continues, "Callie stayed and I left. I didn't call or contact her, figuring that severing all ties would be best. But, I wasn't happy and cried constantly; it took every ounce of strength I had to get through each day. So, when asked if I wanted to return to Seattle, I said yes, after only a few months. I didn't understand how much I loved her until she wasn't there. Callie replaced Africa as my dream."

Ben nods,"It's clear you skipped over some crucial conversations for such a life changing move."

"We did. Callie knew I didn't believe in long distance relationships, so we didn't talk, what was the point? The answer was either go to Africa or break-up. She volunteered to go; I knew she wasn't thrilled about it. Walking away from the grant would have been professional suicide," Arizona explains.

"But, you walked away from a prestigious grant anyway?" Ben quizzes.

Arizona nods in agreement, "I did; but I set things up and running in Africa, promising to supervise from Seattle. The children still benefited. If I didn't take the grant, the money would have gone to another initiative. Eventually, I got my job and Callie back but…," she stops mid-sentence.

Ben sees that Arizona has finished her answer on the subject, "So Children for $100 or Mark for $200? Something tells me this is all connected, so take your pick."

Arizona averts her eyes from Ben, and looking out the window, answers: "It is." She explains what she returned to when she deplaned from Africa

"It was messy because having children was a sore spot for us even before Africa. Just before the hospital shooting, we broke off our relationship over the issue of children; I never wanted them and they were her dream. During the lockdown, we were both in Peds, arguing of all things while the gunman was running rampant. I basically told Callie that I didn't trust her enough to warrant changing my views. And then..., she stood in front of a loaded gun to protect me and a little girl. She just...I was terrified and she walked over to him, gave the gunman bandages to cover his wound and told him to leave - and he did! She then calmed me and the patient down. She was so strong..." Arizona smiles, remembering Callie's 'super magic smile' speech to Ruby.

"Afterwards, she told me that she didn't want to have kids if it meant she couldn't be with me. And then, I promised her that we would have kids...10 kids. Shortly after, I got the news about the grant. We had just moved in together. But this was my DREAM...you don't turn down a Carter Madison grant!" Arizona shouts, her anger raising its head.

Arizona continues to explain what she returned to: a pregnant Callie. The father was, of all people, the person she considered her nemesis.

"Wow, that's a lot," Ben concludes after hearing all that transpired.

"Yah think?" she flippantly replies. Regretting her brassiness, she says apologetically, "I'm sorry. I've made us run over again."

"You did. But uncloaking dark emotions is complicated and time consuming. So, before we call it a night, what about your homework?" Ben questions.

"I did confirm with the daycare; Sofia's spot is still there; unsurprisingly, since it's still paid for. I have our list of babysitters," Arizona shares.

"You and I both know that's not exactly what I wanted. It's good, but, come on Arizona," Ben challenges.

"Fine," Arizona says, huffing in frustration. Finding someone to make sure she held it together was degrading and the list was short. Cristina clearly was not an option, even Callie would agree. "I will speak with Miranda Bailey about being my go-to person."

"There needs to be some give and take here, Arizona. When you have an actual back and forth conversation with productive dialogue that has a beginning, middle and end, Callie's confidence may return. But in the interim, being sensitive of her perspective and anticipating her worries are a good start," he suggests.

"Alright, I get it," she disconcertingly answers, walking towards the door.

"Have a good evening, Arizona," Ben says.

Having crossed the threshold of the office door, Arizona steps back in. "Hey, no Yodaisms tonight?" she questions, suddenly feeling insecure with the absence of the routine exit quote. Seemingly innocuous, the quotations give her something to contemplate during the drive back to her apartment. Who knew her life would have so many parallels to a science fiction movie?

"Hmm," Ben ponders, _"Already know you that which you need."_

xxxxxx

* * *

Xxxxxx

Arriving Wednesday for her 5pm appointment, "Any word?" Arizona anxiously asks.

"Not yet," Ben answers. "We can't focus on that; you still have lots to talk about. We discussed the _'hows'_ and _'whys'_ of your trauma, but you need to take the information and process more specifically your evolution and true feelings. What I explained isn't worthwhile if you can't see how it pertains to your life. You need to identify the missteps, and be aware of the triggers to prevent repeating the unwanted reactions."

Arizona feels like a _'Let's Make A Deal'_ contestant, with Ben as Monty Hall, asking her which door to open:_ 'Arizona, would you like to see what is behind Door #1, Door # 2 or Door #3?'_

She squirms, imagining which '_deal'_ she will face today.

**_Contestant Arizona: 'Monty, let's see what's behind Door #3.'_**

**_Monty Hall: 'With Door #3, you have won a priceless hour of reflection on sibling death, where your can share how painful it was to learn of your brother's tragic demise, who for years was your best friend because your family moved so frequently. To complete this wonderful journey of grief and loneliness, you can share the pressure you feel as the only remaining child, and the difficulties you and your parents encounter, particularly around the holidays, as those fond childhood memories painfully resurface.'_**

_'No,'_ Arizona thinks,_ 'I'm going to pick Door #1.' Maybe I'll get Mark and Survivor Guilt or even Rash and Idiotic Decisions_. She prayed_ Caretaker Callie_ was NOT one of the prizes lurking, because, really, it would be just too raw and painful. If her seething anger resurfaced, it would be hard for Ben to champion her regarding Sofia. _'Maybe I should pick Door #2?'_

Resigning herself to the fact it's going to get harder before it's gets easier, Arizona knows the _'door'_ for each and every compartmentalized, emotional memory will need to be pulled wide open.

xxxxx

* * *

xxxxx

Callie's week was very productive, inspired by need rather than enthusiasm. The minute her mind wandered, it immediately drifted to Alicia's words, so she worked harder to avoid distraction. Unfortunately, no matter how she analyzed Alicia's words, her ideas were not all that far-fetched. Callie did some reading on the subject and it is not surprising that Arizona is struggling. Being perfect and desirable were attributes Arizona strives to emulate. "There are women lining up for me. I'm hot!" Arizona spoke with such confidence after the whole French restaurant fiasco.

_'She could walk the walk'_, Callie thought, cringing at the irony._ 'Before me, Arizona was a player,_' she rationalizes.

Willing to have a conversation with the therapist about the whole thing on Thursday, Callie is anxious to understand how it all connects to the cheating. She will meet the woman and pacify her mentor, mucking her way through the whole damn thing – again.

Wednesday night, Callie and Sofia return home late. Office hours ran a hour beyond the usual 4 p.m. due to the lineup of students seeking guidance for an assigned paper she thought was uncomplicated; she thought wrong.

Picking Sofia up from daycare at 5:30 p.m., they stop by the coffee shop for dinner before grocery shopping. Without a surgeon's hours, she is cooking more, which she loves, but cooking for just her and a picky 4 year old is not all that satisfying. Alicia was over for dinner once and Zach is well paid in baked goods, but preparing a nice dinner for one is dull.

After a fun bubble bath and story time, Sofia easily settles down, snuggling comfortably in her bed and drifting immediately to sleep. Deciding a bath would be perfect for her too, Callie searches for her journals, realizing they are still in the car, in her school bag. With the bath water running, she scoots out to grab her bag, passing the mailbox.

Curiously peering in, she expects to find the mailbox empty, but instead finds an envelope, with recognizable, impeccable penmanship. Noting the improved handwriting, she debates whether to ignore the box's contents; she suspect's the envelope's significance and letter writer's request. She abruptly shuts the mailbox, deciding ignorance is bliss, opting to leave the letter untouched.

Agitated and wound tighter than a top, Callie returns to the tub to soak, but even a luxurious bubble bath doesn't help. Walking to her bedroom, the fireplace catches her eye, provoking a disturbing but foolish image. It is unsettling enough that it disturbs her ability to fall asleep, leaving her to wonder whether she will wake to a living room full of mail or even a _'Howler'_, with the letter impersonating Arizona's shrieking voice:

**_'Calliope Torres, you get back here this instance! Who do you think you are leaving like that? Taking our child!'_**

Barely having slept due to her Harry Potter apparitions, Callie remains unhinged Thursday morning as she drives Sofia to daycare. Feeling ridiculous for her overactive imagination, she knows her guilty conscious is to blame. Making matters worse, her eyes gravitate to seemingly endless mailboxes along the way, conjuring the image of her own chasing her car, yelling: "Your letter, you forgot your letter!" or jumping in front, causing an accident. "Sorry officer, I was driving down the street, minding my own business, and the mailbox darted right in front of my car," would get her locked up for sure. Callie is thankful to reach the daycare without incident.

Arriving to her lecture distracted, Callie begins her case presentation when a student raises her hand and asks: "Are you discussing male…"

"What's mail have to do with this? We're talking patients here," Callie snaps, interrupting the student. Looking at her teacher, questioning what just transpired, she drops her query to let Dr. Torres continue.

As the lecture winds down, Callie's students are keenly aware she is having a bad day, finding her information scattered and disjointed. "Dr. T, could we see your notes again? Maybe you could post them?" one inquires, seeking clarification.

"Notes, what notes? No, we're not going there. Class is over for today," she dismissively announces. Obviously frazzled, Callie walks out of the room, leaving her things behind.

"Okay, that was weird….Torres was all over the place…..What's eating her?" the students mutter between themselves.

Jesse, one of Sofia's babysitters, defends her teacher. "Agreed. She was really weird this morning but we're all allowed an off day; cut her some slack, she's still the best teacher we've got."

Xxxxxx

* * *

xxxxxx

"That was the worst class I ever taught," Callie admits, as she escapes outside for some fresh air.

"Screw-it." Getting in her car and driving to her house, Callie pulls up to the mailbox, parks the car, and opens her window. Peaking in the mailbox, she removes the malevolent envelope cautiously, as if it may attack her. "Arizona mailed this on Saturday," she notes out loud.

Carefully tearing the envelope, she reads Arizona's carefully scribed letter. With rising anxiety, Callie opens the car door and vomits onto the ground, aware the inevitable moment that Sofia will need to be discussed with Arizona has arrived.

Callie refuses to allow their daughter to be used like a pawn in a chess match. Sofia loves Arizona, and Callie knows it's mutual. Biology holds little significance for Callie, given her mother so easily discarded their own relationship. Sofia lost her father but still has two, loving parents, which will not change. Peering further in the envelope, she removes a business card for Dr. Benjamin Alexander, Psychologist. Grabbing her cell, she dials.

"Dr. Alexander's office," a woman answers.

"Could I speak with Dr. Alexander, please? I believe he's expecting my call. My name is Callie Torres."

"Dr. Alexander is with a patient right now. If you leave your number, I'll have him return your call," she replies pleasantly.

"I'd rather not. When would be a good time to call back?" Callie responds.

"Well, between 12 and 1, he doesn't see patients. You could try then," the secretary suggests.

"Thank you; I will do that. Please leave him a message to expect my call," Callie asks, ending the call.

Returning to campus, Callie collects her belongings and recognizing the need to apologize to her students for her disjointed lecture. Perhaps, she can make it up to them next week with an awesome albeit gruesome case; the meat grinder one. With an hour until noon and in dire need of coffee, despite her stomach, she makes her way to the café.

"Dr. T," she hears.

Seeing some of her students gathered around a table, she walks over. "Hey," she sheepishly greets: "This morning's lecture wasn't my best. I'm sorry."

"So, it's okay that we're not sure exactly what you were talking about?" the students, clearly relieved, ask.

Callie can't help but chuckle, "Really? That bad?"

Jesse pipes in: "A bit scattered. It's okay Doc; we've been there."

"Listen, I have a few minutes. Why don't I answer some of your questions. Coffees are on me," she offers, spending the next hour recovering the lecture. Jesse creates a solid set of notes.

"I'll post these so everyone can see them," Callie says. "I'll get them back to you."

"I'll come by later and pick them up?" Jesse proposes.

"Actually, can you come by my house later today, around 3:00 and stay with Sofia? I have some things to do, and may take in a movie or something after," thinking about her upcoming appointment. Looking at her watch, Callie announces; "I need to go. Let's do this more often."

Deciding her lab is the best place for privacy, she heads straight there and redials the number on her cell.

"Ben Alexander," the man identifies himself.

"Hello," pausing a moment, "this Callie Torres. Arizona Robbins sent me your card."

"Dr. Torres; I'm glad you called," Ben genuinely replies.

An uncomfortable silence follows. Callie, having no idea what to say, so Ben decides to take the lead, "I imagine this is a hard time for you, and making this call was difficult."

"I'm doing this because it's the right thing for Sofia," Callie declares.

"That's a very good reason," Ben thoughtfully responds. "Arizona would like to take Sofia for a bit; she is thinking this Saturday. She's in a good place and there are no safety concerns or red flags on my part."

Callie stays silent.

Ben deduces that Callie Torres is conflicted, struggling as she processes the request. "Dr. Torres, if I may be so bold, you called because it's the right thing to do. I'm guessing that you're willing to let Sofia spend time with Arizona, but you're torn having Sofia leave you?"

Callie's silence continues.

"Are you still there, Dr. Torres?"

"I'm here," Callie struggles to answer.

"This must be hard and I understand this year has been hell for both of you. Recovering some of your relationship with Arizona, even if it's as co-parents, needs to start somewhere. Arizona suggested that each of you have Sofia for two weeks? It would give you both a full weekend in the middle?" he proffers.

"Two weeks?" Callie distressingly responds.

"One week creates instability for Sofia since, according to Arizona, you live a few hours away," Ben explains.

"How do I know Arizona is managing okay?" challenges Callie dubiously.

"I currently see Arizona three times per week. The daycare is all set, your usual babysitters are still in place and she asked Miranda Bailey to keep an eye on things. If you have additional concerns or worries, you can call Arizona or Ms. Bailey," Ben reasons.

Callie reluctantly concedes that Arizona has covered all the bases, "Okay; she can take Sofia. I need to think about the timeframe." Ben can't see the tears streaming down Callie's cheeks, but can hear them in her voice.

"If I may suggest, you don't need to stay unconnected with Sofia while she's in Arizona's care. Between Skype, Facetime, or even a phone call, you can talk with her as often as you need," Ben proposes. "I'm aware you severed ties with Arizona, but if you're sharing a child, contact is essential and maybe it's time to re-establish some means of communication for Sofia's sake. Think about it. Can I tell Arizona you'll meet her Saturday?" Ben hopefully asks.

"I'll meet her at 2 o'clock at Chuck E. Cheese in Ellenburg," Callie tearfully replies.

"I'll let her know. Thank-you Dr. Torres. Goodbye," Ben says.

"Goodbye," Callie ends the call, tears now unabashedly flowing.

Xxxxx

* * *

xxxxxx

Ben quickly calls Arizona, leaving a message with the good news, "I just spoke with Dr. Torres. You're all set to take Sofia on Saturday. We'll talk more at tomorrow's appointment."

Xxxx

Arizona is giddy at lunch. "What's with you?" Alex gruffly asks.

"I'm going to get Sofia for a little bit," she answers.

"Really?" Meredith says. "Well, maybe Sunday you can come over for a play date? Zola would love that, she misses Sofia. So you've spoken to Callie?"

"Not exactly. I'll see her on Saturday. A play date might be good, but I don't want to make plans until I actually have Sofia, in case Callie changes her mind," Arizona responds.

Xxxxx

Callie walks into the house-turned-office at 3:25 pm on Thursday afternoon. Like everything in this town, the space is homespun and looks nothing like a therapist's office. A woman, younger than Callie, pops her head out: "Hi".

"I have an appointment with Dr. Mills. I'm Callie Torres," she says sucking in a breath.

"That's me; I'm Deena Mills," the younger woman says introducing herself.

Callie stands speechless.

"You seem a bit unsure," Dr. Mills curiously interjects.

Callie refocuses, "Sorry. I was expecting someone older than me."

Dr. Mills laughs, "I assure you, I'm a doctor, probably older than you think and very qualified. But counseling is about finding the right fit, so why don't you give today a try and if you're still uncomfortable, I'll recommend a different, older therapist. How does that sound?"

Callie nods tentatively, walks towards the room turned office and takes a seat in a comfortable chair with an ottoman that gives her a view out the window.

The two women spend a few minutes with introductions, then Dr. Mills suggests, "Why don't you give me a little insight as to what brought you here?"

"A friend suggested I come. I left my wife after she was unfaithful. My friend seems to think that I'm not entirely fault-free," Callie is clearly peeved as she explains.

"Often, I'm not saying it's true in your case, something else is happening with the person or within the relationship that precipitates the infidelity. Was there anything that concerned you?" Dr. Mills inquires.

"We had a few challenges," Callie acknowledges reluctantly.

"Such as….," the young doctor prods.

"Arizona, my wife, was in a plane crash about a year ago. People died, including my best friend, who was the father of our daughter. Arizona's leg needed to be amputated because of infection and I couldn't save it; I tried but I couldn't. I'm an orthopedic surgeon. When I thought we were getting better, she decided to screw some woman she just met in the hospital where we work. There is other stuff, but that's the big stuff." Anger now spewing from Callie as she finishes her story, "Sorry, that's a lot to dump."

"I hope you're not apologizing," Dr. Mills responds. "Communicating honestly is really important. If you feel you need to apologize for doing that, well that is a problem."

Callie smiles at the confident demeanor this doctor exhibits.

Intrigued by the reaction, Dr. Mills asks: "Dr. Torres, what's so amusing?"

"You. I underestimated you. I can be intimidating, yet you aren't fazed by me, which I do find a bit intimidating," Callie replies.

Deena Mills assumes Callie is complimenting her and takes it as such. "So, did you want to continue? Because if you're looking for someone meeker, I'm not your person. I know my stuff and I won't sugar-coat it. I can help you."

"We're fine, we can keep going," Callie responds.

"Dr. Torres, it sounds like your relationship has undergone dramatic changes," Dr. Mills says. "Let's start with your role over the last year. I'd like to understand the basics of your tasks and responsibilities," the psychologist requests.

"Why?" Callie challenges. "This is about my wife, not me."

"It's about both of you but you're here as an individual for counseling, so it's more about self-reflection. I'm assuming you're here to talk about you, and how you were impacted. This last year must have been difficult. You needed to suddenly manage your disabled spouse. Describe your support system?" Dr. Mills shares staring directly at Callie.

"There wasn't one. There were homecare nurses, but she kept firing them. I essentially handled it," Callie discloses.

"How did that make you feel?" the psychologist asked.

_'Oh my god,'_ Callie thinks, '_they really do ask that question in therapy.'_

"What do you mean _'how did it make me feel'_? It sucked! It really, really sucked! I was already on overload because she refused to do anything, even have a conversation, then she fires the nurses. What the hell was she thinking? I'm not Wonder Woman," Callie acrimoniously replies.

"Ok, so obviously you harbor some anger. Was there anyone else who could help you manage? How about her physician? Did he or she help her advocate for herself, and help with the steps of healing?" the therapist questions.

"I was the flippin' physician. I was overseeing her care. So 'no', to answer your question," Callie rages.

Surprised by the disclosure, Dr. Mills asks. "You oversaw your spouse's care? That's not generally accepted medical practice."

"I know," Callie confesses. "I was overseeing her care initially, since that's what she wanted; she didn't want anyone else. I was the most qualified. Once she was able to use her prosthetic, she handled her own care."

"You mentioned a daughter; has your wife been involved as a parent?"

Callie responds, "In the beginning, no, but she has been the last few months."

"Describe your relationship before the accident," Dr. Mills requests.

Callie smiles and even blushes as she thinks back, "Awesome; we were always together. Surgeon's schedules are crazy, but we tried to even eat our meals together, take turns cooking, though I probably cooked more. She's not much of a cook. We were fun, spontaneous, even with a child."

Very matter of fact-like, Dr. Mills asks: "How about your sex life?"

Surprised by the question, Callie sputters out, "What?"

"Your wife had sexual relations with another person. So part of the issue here connects to physical intimacy. Will you tell me a bit about your sexual connection? Are you comfortable sharing that?"

"I have no problem discussing sex," Callie responds, though a bit insulted. "Look, we had a very healthy, adventurous, spur of the moment sex life. It was probably above average; way above average," Callie offers sheepishly. "Then, of course, with the plane crash, it abruptly ended."

"What I'm hearing is that, first off, you said you couldn't _'save the leg'_ as if it was your task to do that. Then, for the better part of the year you became Arizona's primary caregiver and doctor."

Flustered by the conversation, Callie replies: "It was my job; I'm an orthopedic surgeon, that's what I do. I'm damn good at my job, probably the best on the west coast. So, yes; it was my responsibility to save her leg. I failed and the infection won. Of course, I was the caregiver; spouses are often the primary caregivers. Plus, she didn't want anyone else to help her. She didn't even want me, but she had no choice. But I thought things were better."

Dr. Mills purposely challenges Callie's response, "So, are you saying essentially everything was returning to the way it was before the accident?"

Unsettled by the question, Callie sputters another response, "No, of course it wasn't! Arizona went back to work, she was back to being fully involved as Sofia's mother, we were talking and we were being intimate. After months she let me touch her and we built up to having sex again, which was the hardest part to recover. Clearly, she overcame any insecurities; she hopped into bed with someone else."

Staring directly at Callie, Dr. Mills asks: "Are you surprised by your wife's reaction post-accident? Usually psychological therapy accompanies a trauma this severe. How did that go?"

"It didn't, neither of us got therapy. There was too much going on, no time I guess and Arizona tends to manage things on her own. Looking back, I get that she should have gone for therapy" Callie defends.

"Did anyone even suggest seeing an amputee support group, couple's therapy or even see a sex therapist?" the younger woman inquires.

"A sex therapist? Like Dr. Ruth, really? I'm betting I could teach a few things about sex," Callie huffily replies.

Laughing, Dr. Mills answers. "Exactly like a Dr. Ruth; it's about learning to physically reconnect. It's often recommended for couples, especially when one partner experiences injuries that cause physical disfigurement. Believe it or not, there are steps to follow when attempting to reestablish physical intimacy after serious physical trauma."

Shaking her head in disbelief, Callie questions: "Why? It seems like it should be like riding a bike, you don't forget."

Taking on a more serious tone, Dr. Mills elaborates, "It's not the mechanics of sex; it's the trusting part. You both needed professional help. Dr. Torres, you went from being a sexual being to an asexual one. Your physical contact became perfunctory and functional, instead of intimate and seductive. Was your wife confined to your bedroom as part of the recovery? If so, what memories does that space hold? Going to bed, positioning, grappling with her prosthetic; they all represent hard, day-to-day reminders of her accident. Now, consider that in a sexual context; especially for a spontaneous, active couple like you described yourselves. You used the term 'adventurous'. Sex can, at times, lead to more acrobatic moves that must now be very difficult, if not painful with one leg. Did you ever have that discussion?" the young doctor questions.

Callie shakes her head no. "We really didn't talk about any of it. What are you saying? That I became a non-entity to Arizona? That I changed, because she is the one who changed? Are you insinuating that our apartment is now a bad memory, so every time we go to bed it's a trigger to her nightmares? That our bed or even the shower are horrific reminders of the plane crash? That's absurd!"

The young doctor calmly continues to illustrate, "Is it? Your bedroom, your bathroom and even you, are associated with the trauma. They're constant reminders of how much changed for her in comparison to before her disability."

Tears roll freely down Callie's face, as her mind thinks back to the last shower they took together, albeit reluctantly. Callie's memories were heartbreaking.

Dr. Mills asks: "Dr. Torres, will you share what you are thinking?"

"The last time we were in the shower together," while the doctor logically assumes it's a long-lost, fond memory, Callie's recollection is disheartening, remembering she forced Arizona into the shower. Arizona must hate her for that.

Callie leaves her appointment feeling drained and guilty. However, it's a welcome change from the usual anger. She was so consumed with caring for everyone, and keeping the hospital together, she missed what happened to her marriage. She made another appointment for the next week, still in disbelief that her shrink is some young upstart and a smart one at that.

Pulling out her cell phone, Callie sends a text:** I'll see you Saturday. Callie**

Moments later, a quick reply:** :) Thank you**


	11. Chapter 11

Arriving in Ellenberg early Saturday, Arizona sits at 'their' table, nervously watching and worrying as the minutes trudge by, waiting to see Callie and Sofia. Everything is different from a month ago when she last saw her wife and child. Now, her week includes multiple therapy sessions where she is introspective and talks about her feelings. In addition to fixing tiny humans, she is fixing herself as well. As a surgeon, treatment involves knowing when and where to cut; as a healer, treatment means knowing why you need too. Arizona is healing: examining the 'why' for the first time in her life; so yes, everything is changing.

She spies Sofia before Sofia sees her, calling out to her as she waves her hand.

"Mama!" Sofia darts into Arizona's waiting arms excitedly, almost bowling over a little boy who wandered into her path.

"Hey, no running inside, remember?" Arizona gently reminds her daughter.

"I member now," the youngster innocently answers. "Let's go Mama. I want to play."

"Just a minute; I need to talk to Mommy. Why don't you start without me?" Arizona replies, situating herself to keep her daughter in sight.

Callie patiently stands by, listening and observing the easy interaction with which mother and daughter connect, even after the lengthy absence. Her heart pains with envy at the innocent trust, "Hi, Arizona."

"Callie, thanks for coming, for being here," Arizona replies, as she sits back down.

Sitting across from Arizona, Callie nods, acknowledging the appreciation. "You look better, Arizona. I worried about you."

"You did?" Arizona encouragingly questions. "I'm getting better, figuring it out. Ben, the therapist, he's great. He's not cutting me any slack, even when I try to check out. He makes me listen and talk. It seems I've been hoarding a lifetime of fear and sadness; they need to be discarded. We just spent time talking about Tim. I never let myself have closure; I avoided it. I'm doing that now. It's good, but it's painful too," she says quietly.

"Going over all those memories must be difficult for you. But I'm proud of you for doing it. Better late than never, right?" Callie says, trying to lighten the tone. "Seriously, it's time to sort it all out; it was haunting you. Why don't you play with Sofia a bit while I order pizza. We can talk more after; we need to."

Arizona nods, thankful their first few minutes are cordial. Callie seems to genuinely care about her well-being. Arizona knows their truce may be short-lived, understanding today they need to have an actual, constructive dialogue that may not end well.

After the pizza is consumed, the show begins, mesmerizing Sofia and the two women continue their conversation.

"I'd like to keep Sofia for a couple weeks," Arizona asserts.

"Arizona, two weeks is a long time," Callie hesitantly replies, focusing on Sofia. "I don't know if I can do that."

"It's been more than that since I've seen her," Arizona reasons. "Please? If I'm going to be part of her life, be her mama, I need to spend equal time with her." Her anger rears its ugly head, "unless of course you'd rather her lose two parents?"

Callie snaps her head to Arizona. "What? How could you even say that? I called. I'm here, aren't I?"

"I'm sorry," Arizona says, realizing she needs to keep her irritation in check. "I don't mean to be spiteful. I just miss her so much. You're here and I truly appreciate that. I want to be apart of her life and don't want to lose that," she contritely responds.

"I want that for you both, too. She misses you Arizona; she misses her Mama. I'll try two weeks. I need to stay connected though," Callie insists.

"We can do that. Tell me what you want," Arizona offers amicably.

Callie raises her eyebrows, "What I want is to know why you did it? Why you cheated?"

"You want to talk about that now?" Arizona asks incredulously; the conversation unexpectedly taking a hairpin turn from Sofia to her romp in the on-call room.

"I'm not entirely sure," Arizona confesses, hanging her head in shame. "I know that's not fair; not what you want to hear. She made me feel like...the old me. I thought that person was gone forever. She made me feel attractive, wanted, able, uniquely special..."

"And I didn't?" Callie angrily inserts. "Do you even remember the conversation before Bailey's wedding over the shoes? I said you were so beautiful compared to everyone else. Remember when you got the new high heel prosthetic? I was proud of you and told our friends to check out your ass. Why would it even matter? I loved you for you and the fact you have a great body is just a bonus. I thought you knew how much I wanted you; we were having sex again Arizona! Sex that you initiated!" Callie rationalizes.

"I know, I know, I….I didn't see you as...as a lover or think you really saw me that way," Arizona confesses.

Callie irately snorts. "Oh, I wasn't a lover? What did you see me as? A dumpy nursemaid?"

Stumbling over her words, Arizona tries to genuinely explain: "I felt helpless, Callie. You helped me dress, shower, even pee; it was demoralizing. I felt like a dependent child. I felt like a burden; someone else you had to take care of. I didn't feel like your equal. You did everything and made all the decisions. It felt more like you were patronizing me."

Callie angrily interrupts, "You think I didn't know how hard it must have been for you? You didn't want _ANYONE_ to help you, so I did. What was I supposed to do? You didn't want to know what was happening with the lawsuit, with our lives, so I took care of it. I knew it was tough and embarrassing, but I'm your wife. Before you got on that freaking plane, I told you whatever you couldn't do, I would. So, I did! I didn't push myself on you as a doctor, even though you were struggling daily, and you never let me help with your pain except for that time in the x-ray room when you got the new leg. I knew you didn't want our relationship to be doctor/patient. Our love was supposed to be unconditional. You were distant and cruel sometimes Arizona, but I understood it was your frustration talking, not you. Was I wrong? You still blame me," Callie states emphatically.

Shaking her head to refute Callie's comment, Arizona quickly professes: "I don't blame you anymore. I know you had to tell Karev to amputate. I get that now. I finally reviewed the charts and I get it."

"But you do resent me; you're still angry with me," Callie restates.

Looking Callie directly in the eye, Arizona explains: "I'm still angry; it's still hard for me to understand, what I do know is I hate what happened to me. Ben said it's PTSD; that it's made me angry and bitter and it seeks to destroy me. I'm not saying that as an excuse for what I did or how I treated you. I'm in therapy to treat my PTSD, because it's part of the problem; it poisoned my perspective."

Frustrated, Callie pursues the conversation, "What I'm hearing you say is I didn't make you feel attractive or wanted; that you didn't see your wife as your lover but as a home health aide or caretaker. Is that what I am to you now? What, you have a steward and a mistress? One for chores and one for sex; the best of both worlds?" The bitterness is evident in Callie's tone.

Arizona trembles at Callie's words, "There's no mistress, Callie. It was a mistake; a one time thing. I need to work through a lot of emotions. I love you Callie. Come back; please come home. We'll work through it together," Arizona begs.

"How much is destroyed Arizona? Tell me you're still in love with me and that you still want me. Because there's a world of difference between loving someone and being in love. Tell me I still make you feel wanted and desired," Callie demands.

Arizona, sad at the downturn in the conversation, painfully responds. "Callie, I don't even know who I am right now let alone what I want or desire. I have a lot of feelings that need processing. I've barely started. But I know I love you and Sofia. It's just that my feelings for you are not….." Arizona struggles to find the appropriate word to finish her sentence, and finally adds, "passion-filled."

"But you have passionate feelings for Lauren Boswell?" Callie irately asks.

"No! No" Arizona quickly blurts, "that's done. We're not in a relationship. I severed my ties with her. I promise."

Seeing Arizona's distress, Callie hears the sincerity in Arizona's voice. "Arizona, look I'm seeing a counselor, too. And I read up on trauma; I get you went through a lot. The last year changed both of us. We aren't the same people who married each other. The plane crash put us on different paths, and I don't know if those paths will cross again."

"What are you saying, Callie?" Arizona tearfully pleads.

Callie despondently shares: "I'm saying I love you too, but I'm hurt too much to know if it's enough anymore. And I'm so tired of fighting you to tell me what you're thinking. Yes, we have history; we always will, Arizona. We share a child and will always be connected. But I feel like this last year the more I reached out, the more you pulled away; like you couldn't stand my touch. And now you've let someone else touch you, Arizona. And my dream is to be married to someone who not only needs me, but shares with me, let's me in, who only seeks my touch; who finds me amazing and I find amazing. Reciprocal, you know? A partner. Someone, who in ten, twenty or even thirty years is still excited to see me walk through the door and still feels that way no matter what. Before the crash and even in the hospital before your surgery, you made me feel amazing, like I could do anything. I thought we were amazing together. But that was taken from us. I'm not blaming you; I'm saying this is how I feel."

Arizona, taken back, is stunned by Callie's candid reasoning. "Callie, you can't walk away from us. We can figure this out."

Brown eyes meet blue: "Can we? Not like this. Arizona, before you stepped on the plane, you were running from loss and pain, running from Nick, from Alex and leaving me to pick up the pieces. Then after the crash, it was the same. You checked out and were just this shell. You left the mess for me, and I'm not talking about your dirty clothes. And you hated me for cleaning up the mess while you shut me out. I was good enough to be your nursemaid, but not to take to bed? I don't want to sleep in a bed with a demilitarized zone. That's not marriage. I thought it was changing and getting better. We made strides, like after Bailey's wedding, the night after you got your new leg and the morning of the TED conference. But you shut me out again, didn't tell me how you were feeling or that you were tempted and then you cheated on me. I get that you're hot. We both are. Do you know that Jo Wilson flirted with me to try to get in on a surgery? I told her not to mess with a horny bear. It had been months, Arizona, MONTHS, but I didn't cheat. It's enticing to be desired, but I refrained from letting it go beyond desire because I'm married AND I loved you, Arizona," Callie's poignant words are hard to dismiss.

"I have this fear that at some point, in the future, you are going to leave for Africa again; literally or figuratively. I don't trust you and trust is the very foundation marriage is built on. I know life has no guarantees and it seems like we should have reached our quota of misfortune by now. But who knows what is around the corner for us? When you look at me, I want to see you undress me with your eyes, not stare at me with scorn or contempt because I am managing our lives. I want to be a parent to only Sofia, and not to you. I don't want just to survive; I want to live," Callie weeps as she finishes.

"I can't do this without you," Arizona begs.

"You can and you have to. You're stronger than you think. Remember when you insisted that Sofia be weaned from her pacifier because it wasn't healthy? At night, when she was scared about new situations or she was hurting, Sofia always wanted that damn pacifier. This is the same thing. I think we're each other's pacifier or comfy blankie. We took it from her and she learned to manage without it and it was rough for a while, but she got over it. It was a security blanket and she needed to learn to manage life without it. We need to do that too; to take time separate from each other to fix our brokenness. Time apart is a good idea to find out who we are now, before we see if we can even try to find 'us' again," Callie elaborates.

Callie adds one more painful admission. "Arizona, honestly, I don't know if I can trust you with me again. It hurts to admit that, but it's how I feel these days. So, a break for us is good right now, while leaving the door of possibility ajar."

Defeated, Arizona nods, unable to argue with Callie's thought process. Fighting back tears, she answers, "Okay." Noticing Sofia struggling to stay awake, Arizona says, "Sofia's tired. We should get going. "

Observing Sofia, Callie nods her head in agreement.

Walking together to the parking lot, Arizona thinks they at least had back and forth dialogue with a beginning, middle but no end; more like a 'to be continued'.

"I'll call in a couple days, Arizona. Let's take this day by day. We'll try for two weeks, and see how it goes; no guarantees though," Callie announces.

"Thanks, Callie. Thank you for being here. I promise I'll take good care of Sofia."

"Please text me when you get home," Callie requests.

Arizona smiles, "I will."

Callie gently straps Sofia into the car seat in Arizona's car. "I'll see you soon, kiddo. Be good for Mama. Love you Sofia," she says trying not to cry.

"Love you Mommy," the sleepy child answers.

"Bye Arizona."

"Thanks, Callie. I'll be in touch,"

* * *

xxxxxxxx

* * *

Returning to Pullman after 6 o'clock, Callie decides there is no way she is going to cook tonight. Seeing the Thai restaurant as she drives into town, she suddenly craves Chicken Pad Thai. Entering the restaurant, she orders, pays for her food and finds a seat in the waiting area. Checking her cell for messages, she notes Arizona's text from over an hour ago, saying they arrived home safely. Callie, reminded of the empty house she is returning to, selects a magazine to distract herself while her food is prepared. Oblivious to her surroundings, she loses herself in reading the latest gossip.

Hearing her number called, she quickly stands and turns, bumping into the customer ahead of he. "Excuse me. I'm so sorry."

"No, no, my fa….Callie?" the man says.

Looking up, Callie surprised says: "Jeff?"

"So we meet again, fair maiden," Jeff humorously replies. "Don't tell me you're having a quiet dinner for one?" noting her lone container.

"Well, umm, I am," she answers.

"Me too. What did you order?" Jeff asks.

"Chicken Pad Thai; why?"

"I love Chicken Pad Thai. I ordered Matsaman Curry. Could I convince you to join me for dinner? We'll tell them we changed our mind and eat here instead," Jeff suggests.

Callie noticeably balks at the offer.

"Look, it's not a date, if that's what you're worried about. You already paid for your food and I paid for mine. Eating alone is no fun; it's Saturday night. Please, Ms. Callie Torres?" he asks imploringly.

Smiling at his persistence, Callie relents: "Okay." She really didn't want to eat alone.

Jeff speaks with the hostess and changes their order to dine-in.

As they sit down, Jeff asks: "How about a Thai Mojito? They have the best ones here".

"It's been the kind of day where a Mojito would taste really good. I could definitely use one of those," Callie jokingly replies.

After a casual meal, full of easy conversation and comfortable companionship, Jeff walks Callie to her car. As he holds the door open for her, he observes the car seat, "You have a child?"

"I do, a girl," Callie proudly smiles.

Jeff looks at her with a tentative gaze. "I don't mean to be forward, but I didn't notice a ring. I hope I didn't put you in an uncomfortable situation, asking you to join me for dinner? I was persistent."

Shaking her head, Callie looks at him. "You didn't. Sofia is with her other parent for a bit; we share time with her. I'm separated right now. It's complicated," she forlornly answers.

Seeing her sadness, he places his hands on the side of each shoulder. "Look, those wounds still seem raw. The two times I've bumped into you, you've been on your own. Being separated doesn't mean you need to sequester yourself from the rest of the world. Let's have dinner again, sometime. Dutch-treat if it makes you feel better, okay?"

Relief spreads across her face. "Maybe, I'll think about it," Callie coyly answers.

"Here, put this someplace safe; it's my phone number. Please, when you're ready or just need a friend to talk to, call me. Okay?" He watches a small smile creep onto her face as she accepts his thoughtful gesture.

Watching Callie place the old receipt with his number in her wallet, Jeff shuts Callie's door, and watches her drive off.

He is intrigued by this new woman in town.


	12. Chapter 12

Callie returned to Dr. Mills the following week, "Dr. Torres, nice to see you back."

"Actually, first, can you stop calling me Dr. Torres? Wearing that hat got me into trouble in the first place. I'm not here as a doctor. So, Callie, please."

Dr. Mills smiles, "Callie it is. But I think you are being too hard on yourself. You were put in an impossible situation: you were the most qualified to manage that case and yet, you were the least appropriate person to do it. Secondly, blurred boundaries between caretaker and spouse are not uncommon for many relationships, not just for relationships where one partner is a doctor. Cut yourself a little slack."

Raising her eyes to the ceiling to suppress a sudden wave of emotion breaking upon her, she takes a calming breath. "Easier said than done," Callie tries to joke. "When I was here last, you mentioned steps we should have taken to move toward intimacy. Can you tell me about them?"

Dr. Mills elaborates, "Depending on whom you read, there are all sorts of theories on recovery and regaining intimacy for trauma victims. While there's no perfect solution, you need to find what works best for you and your spouse. Have you two had a conversation about resuming intimacy?"

Shaking her head to indicate 'no', Callie replies, "We're not living together; I moved hours away from her. I ran. I needed a break from more than Arizona. I feel like there's a huge stamp across my forehead that reads: sucker. My name is synonymous with failed relationships. This isn't even the first time I've been cheated on, it happened in my first marriage, too! I don't know what I want, or whether we should even get back together. I have doubts as to if I will be able to get past the affair. Every day I think about it, about her," Callie disdainfully answers, _'her'_ is not Arizona.

Deena Mills nods her head, to silently acknowledge that she is listening to her patient. "Statistically, 35% of marriages survive infidelity. Both partners must be willing to manage the adultery as a united couple in order to overcome it."

Callie frankly discloses, "I just want to know what I should've done or maybe do; if we ever even get to that point again. I feel like I should've known better. I know that sometimes I can be oblivious to what's going on around me; I don't like to make mistakes and I feel like after listening to you and Alicia, that I did. I know I did," Callie agitatedly discloses, clearly rattled by her contrite admission.

Taken aback by the surgeon's rebuke of herself, the therapist intercedes, "Blaming yourself isn't the answer; you didn't intentionally misstep. Self reflection is good as long as it helps you to understand your own choices, your strengths and your challenges. Everyone is different, so every solution is unique. It is constantly wading into unchartered territory. Well, you've moved away from your support system and you've lost the rest of it, who is supporting you through this current turmoil?"

Callie's eyes well up, thinking that Mark would have gotten her through this. Instead, she was now grieving for his death and missing his companionship. "No one, well maybe Alicia but she is also my boss. Other than my dead best friend and estranged wife, there is Bailey, but she prefers to stay out of people's personal business, plus she is in Seattle. My relationship with my family is strained. They don't agree with what they see as poor life choices regarding my previous failed marriage and this less-than moral in the eyes of God marriage. My friends were on that plane; they had their own problems. I just pushed through each day, you know? And I'm doing that now."

Dr. Mills looks at Callie with sympathetic admiration. Callie obviously has had much to handle, and she continues to struggle alone in getting through it. "I'll answer your question. I do think, however, that your friend's death and your relationship with your family will need to be discussed at some point."

Callie just nods acceptingly.

"I can explain the steps of intimacy, but really, before those are even taken, and for them to be effective, you need to establish empathetic communication with Arizona which is open, honest and reciprocal. You need to be able to 'sit' with her story, really be present for the conversation and listen wholeheartedly. I know that sounds like psychological gobbledygook but empathy is crucial. Often people assume sympathy is the same as empathy, but there is a world of difference," Dr. Mills describes.

Speaking up, Callie asks for clarification, "Wait, I'm not sure I understand."

The psychologist illustrates further, "Callie, you need to understand Arizona's loss, her confusion regarding who she is now, and feel her pain as her wife, as a female and as a friend. Obviously, you don't understand how it feels to be in a plane crash or lose a limb. But, you mentioned that you came close to losing your own life in a car crash and for a time your dexterity was compromised, so most likely, you have experienced comparable emotions that she has been encountering this past year."

"Based on your account of the last few months, you understood her pain from more of a medical perspective. To be empathetic, not sympathetic, you can't feel bad for Arizona because of her struggles, you need to feel the anguish with her. Essentially, because you two are bonded so well that you feel her pain, too. It's a two way street; she has to understand that you are still grappling with grief from Mark's death and mourn the loss with you." Dr. Mills pauses a moment to make sure Callie is still present.

Once she is confident that her patient is still following her, she continues, "The plane crash left its imprint on both of you, but in very different ways. Once you grasp how the other is feeling, because you each honestly and openly share those emotions, then you can evolve to negotiating and compromising. I'm sensing you did more accommodating in order to not upset the apple cart, rather than this necessary _'give and take_' relationship. What you do in the day to day, often mundane activities, is the foundation for establishing emotional and then physical intimacy."

Remembering her own post car-crash fears about whether or not she would walk again, be able to hold Sofia or continue to work as a surgeon, Callie understands. "I tried so hard to fix everything for her. I didn't want to overburden Arizona or overwhelm her. I sensed I was losing her and I couldn't bear that. I figured by minimizing her fears, I was helping her see she wasn't any different; that she was still the same Arizona. I get that the amputation was a big deal for her, but she was dying, which, for me, was a bigger deal."

Dr. Mills questions, "Did you talk about any of this? Acknowledge your fear of losing her or ask her to tell you how she felt during the crash or in the woods or after losing her leg? Did you ask her how she sees herself with only one leg, or say that you understand that she must feel less beautiful, less feminine?"

Callie shakes her head, "No. At first she was so angry and kept yelling at me that I cut off her leg. It was pointless to attempt a conversation. As things improved, we tried, well, maybe a little, but not necessarily in those words," she stammers thinking back to the high-heel shoe conversation they had in bed one night.

"Callie, in those moments when you're not sure whether or not there has been full disclosure, when you feel there is something unresolved because you sense partner pulling back or just plain intuition, you need to follow-up. You both need to learn to communicate honestly with each other at the very basic level, to push through the discomfort. It's not always going to be an easy, stress-free conversation. You need to get to the underlying feelings, to hear each other and come to a common understanding of what you each feel even though it may appear that you are worlds apart. That's the bottom line if you want any type of relationship," Dr. Mills concludes.

Callie reflects on her most recent conversation with Arizona, "I think we did that this weekend. I told her I needed my space, and that I wasn't sure if there could be "us" again. Arizona said she has a lot to sort out, too; she is still angry with me. She keeps things bottled-in. So, getting back to the steps, can you just tell me?"

Deena laughs at the orthopedic surgeon's persistence. She guessed it is Callie's doggedness that gives her patient her professional success, "Fine. Remember, this is my professional opinion; other therapists have different theories. These steps assume that you two are already communicating daily about relevant and non-relevant happenings:

First, you both need to be comfortable with basic physical affection, simple hugs for example.

Second, flirting and sharing sexual comments or innuendo with each other; verbal foreplay. Being comfortable with the words of intimacy allows you to be comfortable with having a highly personal conversation later, which is crucial to re-establishing physical intimacy.

Third, compatibility. Do you have common interests and pleasure outside of the bedroom? It is important to enjoy each other's company in general, not only in one context.

After achieving those three milestones, you'll find that arousal follows," Deena matter-of-factly concludes.

Callie sighs in frustration, "Okay. I sort of tried that but I think I rushed it. We definitely were not on the same page at the same time. I can't believe you need to explain this to me," Callie smiles sheepishly, a bit embarrassed.

Deena Mills grins at the doctor's honesty and sincerity, "Look. We both have different specialties. We're lifelong learners, right?"

xxxxxxxxx

* * *

Two weeks seemed an eternity but, to Arizona's credit, Sofia seemed no worse for wear. Callie managed to Skype a few times and Arizona frequently sent adorable pictures of Sofia through SnapChat and texting.

Callie acknowledges that Arizona clearly is improving. Arizona seems lighter, her smile genuine, though not as peppy as she once was. The daily contact helps ease Callie's worries, so she didn't call Bailey. Honestly, Callie is not quite ready to deal with her friends.

When the exchange is finally made Sunday, two weeks later, Sofia bounces excitedly back into Callie's arms. "So, I'll see you two weeks from today, same time and place?" Callie confirms.

Arizona nods, "That will be great. Callie, I wanted to talk to you about something..."

Arizona draws in a deep breath and then exhales it before gingerly proceeding, "Thanksgiving is in a few weeks and my parents are coming. I would like it if Sofia could stay longer and spend Thanksgiving with us; they asked. They would really like to see her. I know we haven't talked about holidays."

Caught off-guard by the reasonable request, Callie utters a strained response, "Uh, okay. I hadn't thought about that. But, okay, we can figure it out when it gets closer."

Arizona quickly adds, "You can come too... "

"I can't," Callie interjects, before Arizona can say more and the invitation becomes harder to decline. "I...I already have plans," she lies.

Embarrassed by her mangled delivery of what she wants to be construed as a genuine offer, Arizona tries to salvage her invitation, "My parents were hoping to see you, too. Could we figure something out?"

Truth is Callie misses her in-laws. Barbara is more of a mother to her than her own. Callie intentionally kept her distance from the elder couple, not wanting to place them in a difficult spot where they need to serve as mediators or choose sides.

For some families blood is thicker than water; Daniel and Barbara never gave any inclination this to be true, especially with how they dote on Sofia. Still, unwilling to test the waters, Callie made the choice to distance herself; she loves them that much.

"We can firm up the details when it gets closer. Perhaps I can pick Sofia up in Seattle and maybe we can plan having breakfast on Sunday?" Callie thoughtfully suggests.

Wanting to be amenable to her in-laws, Callie knows this would allow Barbara and Daniel as much time as possible with their beloved granddaughter and give her ample time to drive back to Pullman.

"Thanks Callie. It means the world to them, and me," Arizona quickly adds.

Callie slightly smiles in return, perceiving that Arizona's gratitude is indeed sincere.

Xxx

* * *

Over the next week, Callie's research proves to be highly effective. Her tests yield successful results that are reproducible, and she trials a hydra-based delivery system for her synthetic cartilage. It amazes her how productive she is when her time isn't parceled out between patients, surgery and hospital management.

Her time in therapy is just as proficient. In hindsight, delving into highly personal topics with this young therapist is far easier than with someone closer in age to her mother or grandmother. Who wants that?

Callie feels good to finally be given permission to think about and grieve Mark. She misses his often inappropriate comments, which made her laugh. Their friendship was unconditional and their companionship comfortable. There were too many eyes and expectations at Grey-Sloan, so the privacy that came with her anonymity in Pullman allows her to just let go. She only needs to be strong for Sofia and to work on fixing herself; she's discovering she is definitely in disrepair.

Her grief highlights her loneliness and her lack of a social life is starting to wear on her. She has shied away from socializing with colleagues. Jeff's number remains tucked away in her wallet; she is still unable to bring herself to call him. There is no question he is a nice guy and easy to be with; but there are no sparks. She just is not ready to initiate a relationship with anyone at this point. Callie concludes sparks are overrated anyhow, they always seem to fizzle far too quickly.

After a long day in the lab, Callie returns to her office to collect her papers and mail before picking Sofia up from daycare. Casually glancing at the envelopes and journals piled in her inbox, her eye catches a familiar face; on the cover of _Medicine Today _is Arizona holding hands with...Lauren Boswell!

Quickly scanning the article, she screams, "What the….," as she whips the magazine across the room. "She said there is no relationship, that she severed ties. She promised!"

Angry tears roll down her cheek as Callie sinks to the ground, defeated.

"Screw her. I'm done," she crossly remarks. Pulling out her wallet, she grabs her cell phone and dials.

Xxxxxx

* * *

Arizona finishes a lengthy surgery and is immediately called to the Pit for another trauma. It is well after midnight when she finally crawls into an on-call room to sleep. It seems that morning arrives moments later, as her pager brings her to consciousness. Dragging her exhausted body out of bed, she makes her way to the coffee cart, and finds some relief from caffeine and a muffin.

"I heard you had a long night Robbins," Bailey comments, coming up beside Arizona.

"Not just a long night but _never-ending _day. I didn't even have time to eat yesterday. Hopefully, I can get out of here early today," Arizona tiredly replies.

"So, when was the last time you were at your office?" Bailey warily asks.

"Well, I don't know, early yesterday morning, why?"

"I'm thinking you haven't seen this yet?" Bailey responds, holding up the current issue of _Medicine Today_.

"Oh no! I forgot about that. Oh my God, Callie. I never told Callie." Arizona, now in full panic, immediately takes off for her office.

Entering her office, Arizona rummages through her in-basket until she sees the dubious magazine. Speed reading through the article, she can't help but think how bad this situation has now become. Callie is surely going to think they were still working together and possibly more considering her current state of mind and lack of trust in her.

Picking up her cell phone, she dials Callie's new number: "The party you are calling is unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone," the impersonal voice message requests.

"Shit," Arizona says disconnecting the call, without leaving a message. Deciding to try again later, her pager goes off.

It is late in the afternoon before she has a free moment to call Callie again. When there is still no answer, she decides to leave a message, "Callie, I don't know if you saw it yet, but there is an article about Lauren Boswell and me in _Medicine Today_. I forgot all about it. I'm sorry. The interview happened just after you and Sofia left, I should have told you. I.. I….;" the allotted time for the message ran out and her call ended.

Totally flummoxed by this unanticipated turn of events, Arizona has no choice but to wait for Callie to return her call. If Callie has seen the article, Arizona knows it will be a few days before her wife is calm enough to speak with her.

Arizona can't gauge the magnitude of Callie's reaction to the piece, but she knows it won't be good. With the switch off for Sofia over a week away, she hopes Callie will at least be on speaking terms with her by then.

Xxxxxxxx

* * *

Five days of countless messages and texts, and Callie has yet to respond to Arizona. Clearly, her wife saw the write-up but, understandably, it was like pouring salt into very fresh, open wounds.

Wednesday night, Arizona prepares to return home when an unfamiliar orderly stops her as she exits her office. "Oh, Dr. Robbins?" he asks.

"Yes. Do you need something?" she tiredly replies.

"No, but here you go," he smirks, handing her a large brown envelope before quickly walking away.

Confused as to what just transpired, she tears open the innocuous envelope. Pulling out a number of documents with a cover letter, she reads:

**_Please find attached all necessary documents on behalf of my client, Calliope Iphegenia Torres, Petitioner, of Pullman, Whitman County, WA, regarding her Petition for Dissolution of Registered Domestic Partnership from Arizona Robbins, Respondent, of Seattle, King County, WA on the grounds that the partnership is irretrievably broken._**

**_The respondent has ninety days to respond to this petition and may counter-petition. If the respondent fails to reply within the time allotted, the petitioner will request an order of default through the court._**

She can't read any more. Call it what you will, Callie essentially filed for a divorce. Reeling from the stunning news, Arizona irately yells: "She can't do that! Not without as much as a conversation."

Returning to her office, Arizona logs on to her computer wondering _'Where the hell is she?_' In the search window she enters: _"Dr. Calliope Torres Pullman Washington"._

Seconds later a few links to YouTube videos display on her screen with '_Badass, Dr. Torres, Dr. T'_ as descriptors. Clicking on one, Arizona's heart sinks as there is Callie, larger than life, and happy, "She's teaching?"

Watching the video closely, Arizona looks for clues to where the AWOL woman can be found. She notices the podium Callie lectures from with a school's emblem displayed: Washington State University.

Quickly making arrangements with Owen and Alex, Arizona clears her schedule for the next day. She's taking a road trip. The balance of the night, she watches the clips, pining over what now may be irretrievable.

Her last thought, before she finally drifts off to sleep in her office, is the irony of it all. As a lesbian, she fought her whole life to be accepted. It happened: with her family, professionally, with Callie, with friends and colleagues. Their union was regarded by all as a marriage. Now, with the new laws, they could have made it legal. Hell, if they did nothing their 'partnership' would seamlessly transfer to a legal marriage in the eyes of the State of Washington next year. If she can't persuade Callie otherwise, it will be over before it officially, legally started. It feels like collapsing inches before the finish line.

Xxxxxx

* * *

Denial is a great crutch for Callie; so she decides the way to ignore the last week's events is to focus on her work and give her students another paper.

She actually relishes the control of teaching, but deep down it probably doesn't hurt that misery loves company, even if she's the perpetuator of the misery. Callie knows her needy students will constantly stream in and out of her office, seeking guidance, thereby numbing her loneliness and pain: the less solitude, the better.

Finishing Thursday's lecture to a packed room, Callie announces: "Does anyone else need help with their paper? If so, come on down to schedule an appointment."

While the majority of students file out, a handful of students surround the professor as she diligently notes their scheduled appointments in her planner.

"How about me, Dr. Torres? Can you help me with my papers?" a voice asks.

Callie's head whips up; the source of _that _questioning voice is unmistakable.

"Arizona."

"Hello Calliope," she tersely greets. Walking down the aisle toward Callie, she holds up a large, legal envelope.

The students are perplexed at the edgy interaction between their beloved instructor and this mysterious visitor. Noticing the confusion of her surrounding entourage, Callie nervously proposes: "Hey, guys. I'll have office hours tomorrow afternoon. Would you come by then, please?"

The students easily sense the angst in the room between the two women and quickly file out.

"So, you found me," Callie says sighing.

"I did. It was the only positive information in the whole damn package," Arizona testily says, holding up the envelope filled with the legal documents. "Your town and state are on the papers, so I Googled you. It seems your students have been videoing your lectures and posting them online. You have quite a YouTube following actually; very impressive," Arizona explains.

Callie, unaware, frustratingly asks: "They're on YouTube? I knew they were taping them, they said they couldn't keep up with their notes. I didn't know they'd post them on YouTube."

"Well, you can be overwhelming, Calliope. So, you're teaching. I spent the night watching your lectures and you're good Callie. But then, I would expect nothing less. What a waste of your talent though; you should be operating," Arizona says bitterly. "In Seattle," she adds for good measure.

"You are in no position to judge me," she snaps, biting back at Arizona's well aimed comments. "We're not talking here, Arizona. We can finish this conversation in my office," Callie forcefully demands as she gathers her things to leave.

"Are you embarrassed by me Callie; afraid I might do something else inappropriate?" Arizona acrimoniously suggests.

"What? You know that's not it. This conversation would be better in private, but fine, you want to talk here, we'll talk here. You lied to me. You promised you two were finished," Callie stammers.

Arizona shakes her head in disbelief, "We are finished. I made it clear to the Board that I'm not working with Boswell anymore. You could have asked, but no you file for a divorce or a dissolution, whatever it's called. You know, Calliope, that's your problem. You overreact without asking questions."

"Overreact? You're kidding me. You slept with someone else; you certainly didn't ask my opinion in advance. You don't even know if you are in love with me. We can't even have a conversation without getting angry. That's not a marriage, maybe that part of us _is_ gone," Callie responds, feeling trounced.

Arizona's fury grinds to a halt upon hearing Callie's dejected words. "Do you really think we're done?" Arizona sadly asks.

Shrugging her shoulders, Callie answers truthfully, "Arizona, every time I think about us as a couple or ever being intimate again, all I see is you with her. I can't shake the picture of you two together, doing things that should have been shared between us, only us! I see you, your beautiful blue eyes and blond hair and then you mutate into a monster that resembles Boswell. I can't live like that. How do I shake that nightmare out of my head? Tell me!" Callie clamors.

Though unable to provide an answer to the ill-boding question, and reluctantly accepting Callie's conflict as legitimate, Arizona still defiantly answers: "I'm not signing these. I'm not ready to give up on us yet."

Callie nods, "Do you think I'm ready? But where do we go from here? I don't know what to think, what to do, Arizona. I just want to look at you and not see her or have visions of what you were doing in that on-call room, but I can't."

Despondent, Arizona replies: "I don't know. Can we not rush this? What difference does it make if I sign today or a month from now?" Really, what she is thinking _'or not sign at all'._

Callie internally rationalizes that she is unwilling to reconsider the divorce just yet as she needs more time to process the conversation just shared between them; she is willing to call a truce. "How about a cup of coffee? I'm sure you could use one after the drive."

Arizona nods her head. "Five hours Callie; really? You needed that much distance?"

"Alicia is here. She offered me lab space if I taught a class for her. That's why I'm teaching Clinical Experience. Besides, it's peaceful and people are genuinely thoughtful and nice; friendly. I needed that." Callie shrugs knowing that her half-assed answer wasn't going to be enough for Arizona but not ready to delve into anything further with her. Needing common ground, she offers: "Do you want to see the lab?"

Callie gives a tour of her lab on route to the cafeteria for coffee. Finding a table, they continue their conversation from earlier, "Look Arizona, maybe we should work on just being friends and co-parenting. I don't want to be mad at you all the time; it's exhausting. If I think about us in another, more intimate setting, I just get pissed."

Expressionless, Arizona acceptingly nods.

"Hey, Callie. How are you?" a voice calls out.

Callie looks up to see Jeff walking towards them. He jokingly says: "Still saving my number for a rainy day?"

"Sorry, I haven't called. It's been busy," Callie apologetically explains.

Jeff turns to Arizona, "Hi, I'm Jeff Forsythe. I'm a visiting agricultural professor here."

Callie intercedes: "I'm sorry, Jeff is a friend; he rescued me from a shitty situation a couple weeks ago," Callie smirkingly explains. "Jeff, this is my….this is Arizona Robbins."

Smiling, Jeff answers: "Nice to meet you Arizona Robbins. So, Cal, there is a concert this weekend on campus, and a bunch of the faculty are going. Join us? It's going to be a lot of fun."

"That sounds terrific. I'll call you. I promise this time I will," Callie replies, flattered by the invitation, particularly in front of Arizona.

"See you ladies later," Jeff says, bidding the two goodbye.

"You certainly didn't waste any time, did you? Is the vacation over; you've gone back to men?" Arizona disdainfully challenges, as the conversation turns sour.

"He's just a friend, Arizona. I'm not dating anyone, although you're making it very tempting for me to want to. And I'm so sick of you throwing my bi-sexuality in my face," Callie hisses. "Who are you to talk anyway? Did you decide to take a break from monogamy, because if I wasn't mistaken, when we said our vows, I thought monogamy was implied?"

Realizing her animosity is further alienating Callie, Arizona backs down. "I'd like to see Sofia. It's only fair I know where her daycare is and where you live," she firmly declares.

Callie nods, agreeing to the requests and thankful for the reprieve from where they were headed.

"Since I'm here, maybe I should just take Sofia early? It's already Thursday. You can pick up Sofia on Saturday morning instead of Sunday afternoon, in two weeks. Plus, it seems you have a chance to go out Saturday night," Arizona appeals, trying to keep her acrid jealousy in check.

Callie's brain is convoluted with the morning's events, and she is unable to refute Arizona's logic. She concurs: "Okay. I'll see you two weeks, on Saturday, in the morning," Callie reaffirms.

Xxxxxx

* * *

Two weeks later, on a Saturday morning, Arizona and Callie meet in Ellenberg to exchange Sofia at the Walmart parking lot, since extended meetings at Chuck E Cheese are no longer necessary. After handing off Sofia, Arizona says she has a favor to ask.

"Ben suggested, to give us closure, that maybe you would come to one of my appointments. I was thinking that when you pick up Sof, after Thanksgiving, maybe we could meet with Ben on Monday morning? I know I'm asking a lot Callie, asking you to stay longer. I can get the appointment for first thing in the morning. It will still give you time to get back to Pullman in daylight." Arizona refused to say "home."

Callie's face gives away nothing and remains expressionless; she stays silent, wishing the question was never posed.

Arizona persists, "Please Callie. I get it. I just need some closure. I'll sign the papers after, I promise. You don't owe me anything, but it would mean so much to me and maybe help us move on."

Callie nods, indicating her willingness to agree to Arizona's request, "Monday morning would work."

As Arizona leans in to kiss Sofia goodbye, Callie's sadness is tinged with anger that their life has evolved to this: divided time with Sofia, who has become an object of negotiation and their tie that binds.

The question always looms in the back of Callie's mind: _'Why did you do this to us Arizona?'_

xxxx

* * *

On the Sunday after Thanksgiving, Callie tentatively knocks on the door of apartment 502 feeling overcome. Arriving in Seattle the afternoon before, she stayed sequestered in her room at the Archfield. Understandably, she struggled with her decision to agree to this visit, leery of how it would go. Sucking in a deep breath, she knocks more loudly the second time.

Barbara opens the door, thereby releasing Callie's floodgates. How Callie misses her de-facto mother, who knows what she needs before Callie herself knows. Not a word is spoken, their eyes saying it all, Barbara draws Callie into a motherly embrace. The weight of the last few months feels crushing to Callie but Barbara's unconditional love helps relieve her burden. Callie accepts Barbara's offered shoulder to cry on without pause.

After a few minutes, with Callie's emotions back in check, Barbara leads Callie further into the apartment. Daniel's solemn expression fades upon seeing his daughter-in-law, and he too, offers a hug. "Callie, it's so good to see you," his words sincere.

Arizona, avoiding the initial rendezvous between her parents and Callie, hid in Sofia's room with a weak excuse. Callie didn't mind; it made the reunion less overwhelming.

"Callie," Arizona acknowledges, entering the living room with Sofia in tow. "I'm glad you're here."

"Mommy, Mommy, I mizzed you" Sofia yells, running into Callie's arms, where she waits, crouched in the living room.

"I missed you too my Princesa," Callie whispers softly in her ear. "So much."

Callie listens to Sofia recount all her activities before she tires from storytelling and returns to playing with her toys. Glancing around, Callie notices the apartment hasn't noticeably changed since she left.

"Callie, any chance you can give me a hand in here?" Barbara requests from the kitchen, where she is preparing brunch. With Sofia no longer providing a distraction, she hopes to rescue her daughter and daughter-in-law from the awkward silence that is strangling them. The two younger women know each other so well, yet can't scrounge up a conversation between them.

"Sure," Callie answers, relieved with Barbara's feigned request for help.

Lunch is cordial, Callie keeps the mood lively, sharing her teaching experiences and updating the trio on her research. A weary Sofia dozes off to sleep in Daniel's arms, so Barbara scoops up the girl, and carries her to her bedroom, returning immediately after putting her down for a nap.

Clearing his throat, Daniel suggests they move to more comfortable seating in the living room. Callie and Arizona know this is not really a suggestion, and make their way to separate chairs, with Daniel and Barbara taking the couch.

"I'm not going to pretend this is easy. It's pretty damn hard," Daniel begins without preamble. "We love you like a daughter, Callie, and that's not going to change, ever. A mistake was made," he says, looking at Arizona, who shrinks under his gaze.

"You two need to figure this out amicably, because I want to be clear, Sofia is our granddaughter. We expect to remain a part of her life. That means we need to spend time with her, and know what is happening in her life. Callie, we refuse to let you drift away from us. We've already lost one child. I refuse to lose another. So I expect you….,"

Barbara clears her throat, indicating to Daniel to subdue his stern tone. Rephrasing, he requests this time, a bit more gently: "I'm asking you, Callie, let us back into your life? Call? Maybe even visit?"

Smiling in relief, Callie's eyes tear up with the gruff, but loving gesture extended by Daniel and Barbara. She silently marvels at the unconditional acceptance of the Robbins, who haven't asked her to reconsider the divorce or to return to Seattle. They just ask to let them keep loving her, and hope she would do the same.

"I will. I want that too," Callie gratefully responds, now feeling less alone and disconnected from her extended family. "Well, it's late. I've had a wonderful time. Thank you. The meal was terrific Barbara, as always. I need to get going."

"You're still on for tomorrow?" Arizona worriedly asks.

"I'll be there. Text me the address; 8:30, right?" Callie confirms.

Looking at her in-laws, Callie announces. "After the appointment, I'll come by to pick up Sofia," adding, "We can say our goodbyes then."

Callie leaves Daniel and Barbara with a final embrace.

* * *

Author's Note: I have no official legal knowledge, other than what the internet provided. My apologies for any inaccuracies. Many thanks are needed for those still reading, and those sharing their thoughts. I truly appreciate it.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Sincere appreciation for reading this story and for those who have shared their thoughts, thank you.

* * *

Though Callie has been sitting in her car since 8:00 am, she waits until 8:25 to actually exit. She concludes that Arizona is meeting Dr. Alexander prior to their appointment since Arizona's empty car is in the parking lot already probably well before she had already arrived.

She is nervous; were they ready to actually open up the can of worms, extracting one wiggly invertebrate at a time? Who knew how many of the slimy creatures will surface with the excavation of their past.

Precisely at 8:30 am, Callie enters the waiting area of Dr. Alexander's office. "Good morning," a cheery voice greets her.

"My name is Callie Torres. I'm supposed to meet with Dr. Alexander this morning."

"Ahh yes, Dr. Torres," the receptionist says, checking her appointment log. "I will let Dr. Alexander know you are here."

The receptionist walks to the interior office door, gently knocks, and then pops her head in. Callie, in the meantime, stares out the window, at nothing in particular, anxious about what is to follow.

"Dr. Torres, go right in," the receptionist says, holding the door open.

Entering slowly, Callie first notices the black and white decor finding it ironic that the conversations that are about to transpire will surely be anything but. However, the simplicity of color scheme evokes a sense of calm; it takes another moment before she spots Arizona standing in the far corner of the room, by the window.

"Dr. Torres," she hears. "I'm Ben Alexander, nice to meet you in person."

Startled, Callie looks to her right, where she sees a regular looking kind of guy with a warm smile and friendly eyes. A bit taller than her, with salt and pepper hair, he appears in good shape; a weekend warrior type she deduces. Spying a collection of frames on his desk, she assumes he has a family as her eyes gravitate to his left hand, noticing a ring. Her first impression is he's probably a great dad, he sports that easy-going, playful demeanor. Looking further into the sitting area, she notices a green statue on the coffee table, glaringly out of place with the calm decor.

Callie extends her hand, shaking the hand offered to her by Ben, "Nice to meet you as well, Dr. Alexander." Furrowing her brows she asks, "Is that Yoda?"

Arizona pipes up from the corner, "He's got this weird Star Wars thing going on; don't get him started," Arizona awkwardly laughs.

Arizona pauses, stepping forward she says, "Hi Callie. Thanks for coming."

Callie nods, acknowledging the comment, and she notices Arizona's ease, which makes her relax a bit more.

Ben jokes, "Hey, don't underestimate my small friend." His tone switches to more formal, "Shall we get started? Dr. Torres, Arizona and I have dropped the formalities and are on a first name basis. What would you be most comfortable with?"

"Callie is fine. Where would you like me to sit?" she asks.

"Wherever you would like, there are no designated spots. Arizona tends to wander. This chair is the most comfortable," he adds, pointing to a black and white upholstered arm chair. The seat was not just comfortable to sit in, it also provided a reassuring panorama of the room, the door and Arizona, but Ben did not need to say that, he knew that Callie Torres was smart enough to figure that out.

Taking the proffered chair, she questions, "How are we doing this? Is there a plan or is it more of a free-for-all?"

"There's a plan, but we can see how it goes," Ben answers. "I've cleared my calendar this morning, so time is not an issue. Thanks for agreeing to meet, Callie; I know you worked around your schedule to be here. I honestly believe this will help both of you heal. Arizona was here earlier this morning. She has something she would like to say and you are free to respond. I'm primarily acting as a mediator today. It's important you each speak your thoughts and feelings freely." Ben pauses a moment, as he observes Callie tightly fold her arms across her chest.

"My goal is to keep this session honest, but as civil as possible, maintaining the gains you've made. You're co-parenting Sofia, and are communicating regarding your daughter, which is terrific progress. I will only step in if I feel the dialogue is counterproductive, but you both need to understand that honesty and the anger that may accompany it is not necessarily counterproductive. You need to be allowed to express yourselves freely here without fear. Arizona, please start," Ben requests.

Arizona walks towards Callie and sits on the couch across from her. "Callie, I made a mistake; I never meant to hurt you or Sofia. I've treated you poorly from the start. I'm sorry," she speaks the well-rehearsed lines.

Callie is immediately incensed by the poorly contrived apology.

Callie shakes her head in disbelief, unable to process the shallow reparation Arizona just insincerely delivered. There was nothing in her tone or mannerisms to make her believe it. "A mistake. Was marrying me your mistake or cheating on me?" Callie air-quoting mistake for emphasis, "Maybe it was the alternating verbal abuse and cold shoulder you subjected me to for months. Or leading me to believe we were getting better when obviously you're harbouring all this hate toward me? What mistake are you talking about, because it's not exactly crystal clear?" Callie surprises even herself with her stinging reply.

Arizona's eyes start to well up, "Marrying you was not a mistake. Do you regret marrying me?"

Callie stands and walks to the window in an effort to avoid Arizona's tearful eyes. Looking out the window, she confesses, "I don't regret marrying you, but I never saw this coming, Arizona. You knew about George, you knew how painful that was. How's that saying go?_ 'Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me'._ If I'd ever thought I would be betrayed a second time and by the person I loved most, then no, I wouldn't have married you."

What Arizona wanted to say was '_Do you think this had anything to do with us, with our marriage?'This is about me, I never even….'_ And then she stopped short.

"You think I planned to do this or to hurt you?" Arizona asks incredulously. "Do you think I said to myself _'If I really want to hurt Callie, I'll just sleep with someone else, that will surely devastate her.'"_

Callie stares directly at Arizona, "Well, do you think I said: '_Let's just cut off her leg, that will all but kill her?'"_

Arizona spews, "Callie, you make decisions without asking people or thinking about the consequences. You run around trying to fix everything; like Bailey, the hospital...I didn't want to own a hospital, but you roped me into it. And Derek: you jumped through hoops to fix Derek. How many hours did you sit by Mark's bedside, willing him to recover? Maybe if you just focused on ME, put all your energy into ME, then we wouldn't be in this position. I never strayed from your side after the car crash - we weren't even married. But as your wife, I deserved your undivided attention. I get that we're busy and have other people in our lives, but I just wanted to feel that I was the center of your universe. But I never got that, did I?" Arizona discloses.

Callie tries to find the words to respond. As she replays in her mind her time with Arizona, she knows that her focus was often scattered, albeit not intentionally. It was just her habit, or rather bad habit, to care so much that when a problem is placed in her path, she wants to fix it instinctively, plowing through, while not necessarily seeing the big picture. Perhaps this is born, in part, of the need to measure up, to be worthy but really she knew her distractible tendency was just the downside of her compassionate nature.

Callie's stomach churned with anguish, how could Arizona not see, not know that she tried so hard, that she gave Arizona everything she had, but her wife would never know because she was too selfish to see it, to know it. Arizona didn't care to find out. Callie could feel the burn of her smoldering rage, she could have lost her license treating her wife but that never mattered. Callie never seemed to be part of Arizona's equation; she was simply the tool. Arizona clearly was myopic to Callie's true role.

Feeling blameworthy, Callie defensively lashes out, "What the hell are you saying Arizona? I wasn't supposed to do my job as a surgeon and give Derek the best care that I could? I force people to do my will? Did you even want this? Marriage? Kids? I suppose I made that decision for you too and 'roped you into it'. I know we talked about kids before you left for Africa, but when you came back, it was all or nothing. You resent this," Callie challenges, purposely leaving out her part in Arizona's care. It would be fruitless to even bring it up. There had been plenty of opportunities over the past months for her wife to inquire further, bringing it up today would only give Arizona one more thing to add to her dereliction of duty list that hung like an albatross around her neck. Callie barely had the strength to hold up on her own nowadays.

Arizona angrily declares, "No! You don't get to do this. I know I didn't get a choice about who was Sofia's father, but I wanted to raise a family with you. I wanted Sofia, I chose to be her parent. I love her. You don't get to play the Sofia card, she stays out of this. I'm her mother, too. Don't you ever imply that I'm anything but! Yes, I HATE that you slept with Mark, I resent that he was not just your best friend; he was your sex buddy. 'Oh Mark, I'm having a bad day, let's screw to make it better.' I was supposed to be your best friend, but no you always ran to Mark first."

Callie turns around mid-rant and sees the ire Arizona is releasing. Internally, there is some consolation knowing how passionate Arizona feels about Sofia.

"I'm supposed to be your best friend, Arizona? Well, where have you been all this time then because to have a friend, you have to be a friend first." Callie lashes out feeling immediately guilty for a juvenile reaction.

"Look, I'm sorry that I implied you didn't want to be her parent," Callie apologetically replies. "But why are you saying this about Mark? I thought you two were getting along, didn't you help him survive in the woods? I thought you were over the jealousy thing a long time ago. Even if you weren't, he's not here anymore, you've had no one to 'compete' with as you so saw it."

"We're not talking about the woods Callie. I'm not having that conversation with you. The issue is you getting involved in everyone's business but mine," Arizona yells.

Before she can even process her next thoughts, words hurl from Arizona's mouth, and for one thoughtless, fleeting moment, they are meant to wound. "Is that what happened with George, you married him on a whim and lost your focus, leaving him no choice but to find companionship elsewhere?"

Punched by the accusation, Callie leans against the wall to stabilize herself. She is unable to even comprehend the cruelty that Arizona has thrown at her. Her anemic response is barely audible, "How long have you wanted to tell me that? How long have you wanted to say:_ 'It's your fault that George cheated on you?'_ Yes, I'm the loser. It's my fault you cheated, George cheated, my family abandoned me….."

Shocked by her own venom, Arizona futilely attempts to recant, "I'm sorry Callie, I didn't mean that….. I'm just angry still."

Seeing the pain on Callie's face and knowing Callie's proclaimed words of self-loathing are piecing her like self-inflicted wounds, Arizona walks over to her, placing her hands on Callie's, "Don't say that. You're not a loser; it's not your fault."

Turning away, Callie replies, "Don't touch me! You always lash out and make excuses. Obviously, you meant it! You just finally had the balls to say it. So, I wasn't paying enough attention to you, so you cheat? Or was sleeping with Lauren Boswell payback for Mark? So I would know what it was like and every time I saw her or any blond hair, blue eyed woman I would wonder if you would stray again or the sex was better?"

"It had nothing to do with payback." Arizona staunchly defends.

"Really, it doesn't seem that way. I slept with Mark to forget you! I never slept with Mark when we were together, married or not! You didn't even bother to text me or send an email to let me know you were okay after you left for Africa. You emailed Teddy, but not me. What message does that send? What I heard was 'Screw you!' I was crying myself to sleep every night just to forget you. So yes, I slept with him. Does it even matter to you that I stopped, because it made me miss you more? When you came back we never had a conversation of about why I slept with him or what we both were feeling because you didn't want to, you refused. Before you became cooking buddies, I couldn't even say Mark's name without you getting uptight. But yes, you, the woman-whore completed me, physically and emotionally, more than Mark, the man-whore. He never came close. Happy now?"

Ben clears his throat, "This might be a good time to take a breather. How about some water?" he asks as he walks to the small refrigerator, pulling out three bottles, handing one to each combatants now in their respective corners.

After a brief silence, Ben calmly suggests, "Perhaps we could put the tumultuous topic of Mark on hold for a bit. I have a couple questions that I need clarification on. Would one of you explain to me the issues around the hospital purchase?"

Arizona glares at Callie, indicating that she should explain.

"As a result of the crash settlement, the hospital was essentially going bankrupt. The prospective buyer we found out would have compromised patient care if they were successful in their bid. We…" Callie corrects herself, "I was one of the people who didn't want to work in that environment. They didn't support the kind of medicine or research that I wanted to do."

Arizona interrupts, "The hospital was bought with blood money from Lexie and Mark; I didn't want to be a part of that and be tied to the place. It was my fault the payout was a problem."

Arizona paused as she watched Callie's head whip up at her words. Swallowing what was left of her pride, which wasn't much, she continued on. "I wasn't even supposed to be on the plane, but because of a spiteful decision I made, when I got on that plane, unbeknownst to everyone, I violated the hospital's insurance policy, negating their obligation to pay. So the Board needed to sell. Callie got all gung-ho, _'Let's buy the hospital'_ before she even consulted with me. Remember me, the wife? We should have talked about it first – alone. So now I own a hospital that reminds me every day when I walk through the doors about my screw-ups, about my leg, about Mark and Lexie."

"You're right, I didn't take the time to consider your personal thoughts and feelings on the purchase, but we were working under strict time constraints. Plus you had avoided most of the litigation issues up to that point, I didn't realize you wanted to be involved in this piece since you had relegated many legal matters to me. But, am I to blame for that? Are you implying that I forced you again?" Callie demands. "Because it's not like you ever talked to me about it so what was I supposed to do, read your mind? Believe me, I get that you went through something horrible, but while you were wallowing in your own comatose state, you failed to notice the world around you and that it had to keep spinning and since you weren't keeping up your end, it all fell onto my shoulders. I didn't know where I began and ended anymore. I didn't know when I was overstepping and when I wasn't doing enough because you ... you were so self-absorbed that you didn't care what you were doing to me in the process."

Realizing the conversation is veering towards detrimental, Callie takes a deep breath to calm herself. Considering Arizona's words in a new light, she makes a connection she had not understood before, "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't think about the hospital. I know from my own counseling sessions that our apartment must be a trigger; that maybe I'm even a trigger. I never considered the hospital."

"You are not a trigger Callie, at least anymore. We worked on that. The hospital….you never asked," Arizona solemnly adds.

"That's not exactly true, Arizona. You didn't want to talk. I tried and you shut me down and I gave up trying," Callie sadly confesses.

Hanging her head in shame, "I know," Arizona replies.

"You don't need to stay, sell your share," Callie proposes.

"Where would I go? Where are you going to be? What about Sofia? Us?"

Ben had spent enough time with Arizona to know that she wishfully thought that this one joint session would serve as a cure-all for her marriage. Despite his foreboding, Arizona insisted on pushing Callie into a corner for answers that may not be well received. He changes the subject, delaying the questions for later. Redirecting the conversation, he asks for additional information on a different topic, "I know this is a sensitive subject, am I correct in understanding that you were married before and your husband was unfaithful to you?

Callie bows her head in humiliation.

Ben continues, looking at Callie, "You are estranged from your family as well?"

Callie unsuccessfully hides the tears streaming down her cheeks. Arizona, unable to stand the torment Callie will feel if she is forced to explain her family's separation, interjects, "Callie's family disapproved of her divorce from George even more than they disapproved of her marriage to him. Her mother is a homophobic, self-righteous "Catholic"; she disapproves of me, of our relationship, our marriage. She even refuses to acknowledge Sofia because she was conceived out of wedlock."

Ben notes the compassion and protectiveness Arizona has toward Callie. He observes that while the two woman, as adversaries are cruel, when an outsider challenges, they both come to the defense of the other.

"I see, so it is your parents, Arizona, who are the involved grandparents," Ben confirms.

Callie finally pipes up, "Arizona's parents are wonderfully supportive. They adore Sofia."

"Can we return to Mark?" Ben asks, testing the waters.

Both women stay mute.

"Don't all answer at once," Ben jokingly says, in an effort to diffuse the tension. "I heard from your conversation that Mark is the father of Sofia. Deducing from the comments, you, Callie, have had intimate relations with Mark on multiple occasions. He also seemed to be your confidant. You, Arizona, did not care for Mark, but did Callie say earlier that you both found some common ground over cooking?"

Callie sarcastically adds, "They had this thing for chickens."

"Shut up Callie. He's dead. Don't talk about him," Arizona snaps, responding coldly.

"Why Arizona; do we just pretend he didn't exist? When Sofia asks about her dad, what do we say? That her father was a myth? Just because he's dead, doesn't mean we should forget about him," Callie asserts.

"I'm not comfortable speaking about him," Arizona justifies.

"Hell will freeze over Arizona before you will be ready. You are just going to hold it in, and let it fester until it eats you alive. You tolerated Mark at best. You two finally called a truce and even managed to get on friendly terms. But you never thought twice about disparaging him. Now he's taboo? What happened those four days, Arizona?" Callie probes.

"We waited, that's what happened," Arizona sarcastically replies.

"We been at this for two hours now, Arizona. This is why our marriage will never work; you are not willing to put yourself out there. You avoid, you don't talk and refuse to do anything until it's at the point that I need to take control or feel forced to help you. Why can't you let me be there for you? Why can't there be give and take?" Callie pleads.

"You need to stay around long enough for me to ask. You keeping running around, trying to repair the world, leaving me stranded," Arizona retorts.

Ben halts the conversation reining them in just a bit before it can get out of control which is where he sees it heading. "Let's stop a moment. You both brought up some valid points. Callie you feel Arizona does not honestly share with you what is happening within her emotionally. Arizona, you feel that Callie does not prioritize you as a wife, often gets distracted with other people and tasks, leaving you to feel like a second fiddle so to speak. Is that a fair assessment?"

Both women refrain from answering before getting visual, unspoken confirmation from the other. After their eyes meet, they each slowly nod in agreement with the therapist's statements.

Ben pushes forward, "Callie, can you sum your concerns for Arizona? I'm not saying this is the only issue, but let's just address this one for now, because it's a big one."

Callie paces about the office, trying to piece together her thoughts. Callie then speaks up, "Since I left Seattle, I've played out in my head how this conversation would go when we finally had it, when I could say my peace."

Callie draws in a deep breath and begins, "Marriage, at least the marriage I dreamed of with you, needs to be based on honesty. I guess I suck at attracting that type. Until you decide to trust me with you, all of you, what's the point? I loved you for you. I didn't need you to be perfect or strong all the time. I still loved you when you yelled and screamed at me. At least then I could tell what you were thinking. Regardless of what you would tell me, if you were at least being honest, I could deal with that. How can I help but disappoint you, if I don't know what you need, what you want?"

Shaking her head in frustration, looking Arizona directly in the eye, Callie discouragingly continues, "Courage, Arizona, is more than surviving those four days in the wilderness; courage is having the guts to tell me about it, all of it; talking about your experience so I can understand your pain, your fears. So I can, could help you. Courage is honestly telling me how humiliating it was for you that day I needed to force you into the shower because you were sitting in urine. Courage is truthfully telling me what happened with us that made you think at that moment in time Lauren Boswell was a better option than me. Without trust, there is no marriage, but honesty needs to come hand in hand with that because without one there isn't a need for the other."

"And you can't keep blaming me for outcomes that I had essentially no control over. It's not fair. Remember these words: _'Most especially must I tread with care in matters of life and death. If it is given me to save a life, all thanks. But it may also be within my power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty. Above all, I must not play at God.'_ It would have taken a miracle from God, not me, to save your leg. But saving you was in my power. I take that oath to heart, and I know you do," Callie reminds Arizona.

Arizona reluctantly acknowledging Callie's words, plops back on the couch. Ben looks at Arizona, "Would you now explain what you need from Callie?"

An uncomfortable silence follows Ben's request. Finally, Arizona speaks, "When I was in Africa, I missed you so much, I finally understood you were more important than my dream to save the all those children. And yes, I didn't know that before I made the decision to put my career first and leave. But as soon as I came to terms with the fact that I wanted and needed you in my life, I came back. I never planned on you. It scared me to want someone so much and there is this looming fear that it might not be reciprocal. With my insecurities, I just needed to know that I came first in that huge heart of yours. I've felt like life has overtaken us. Especially since the crash, I felt like I became just another facet of your life, not the highlight of it. I needed to know that I was that important to you, that you would give it all up for me and you did that with Gary Clark, you would have died for me that day. Since the crash I feel like I didn't come first and worried that perhaps was I wasn't enough, without my leg, I'm not...good enough. I struggle to even look at myself in the mirror and I wonder why you would even want me. You held back, why?"

Callie shakes her head to refute the comments,"Arizona, I never saw you as not enough. You were, no you are as beautiful as when we met."

Both women take the juncture to assess each other; nothing has really changed, one lives in Seattle, the other in Pullman. Anger still overshadows them. The lack of trust still evident. Yet, under these trappings there is something left writhing about, refusing to be willed away.

Callie concedes, "It's quite a mess we've made of this. This conversation would have been great a couple months ago, before, you know. But now, even if we can sort this out, I don't know how to forget or even how to forgive what has happened."

Ben replies, "Learning to accept what has happened, to forgive yourselves and each other and move forward is really the only healthy option.. Unfortunately, this option doesn't necessarily mean you move forward as a married couple. My suggestion is to just focus on your relationship as co-parents and as friends. You both need to improve your communication and prioritize appropriately. As Yoda would say: 'You will find only what you bring in'. Meaning, you can only work with what you both bring to the table, if either of you holds back, then I am not confident how successful you will be."

The silence was so loud it could be heard for miles. Callie stares out the window, willing the conversation to go away. Arizona drops her head in defeat.

Ben adds, "Look at this like a Venn diagram, the one common area is Sofia. My suggestion is you start from a place of strength, then develop your relationship from there. Your love and concern for Sofia is clearly one place that you both are on the same page.

Ben waits a moment for reaction, any reaction, "Ladies?"

"Arizona, maybe we should just start by focusing on Sofia." Callie concurs, avoiding eye contact with Arizona..

Arizona blurts out, "As what, friends? Ben, I came to you so you could help me get my life back, not dismantle it further," she angrily adds.

Unfazed by Arizona's outburst, he says, "What are the attributes of a friendship? Honesty, communication, compassion, trust, to name a few. Aren't they the bedrock of marriage as well? If you can't be friends, how do you expect to be spouses?"

Callie responds, "Arizona, I don't want Sofia subjected to our anger and sadness. I know you and I don't think you do either. Ben has a point. We need to work on being friends again without ending every conversation in a shouting match. This weekend, at brunch, we were able to do that. But clearly we have a lot to sort out."

Arizona realizes she has no valid reason to disagree, and forces a nod.

"I know this morning has been long, but I have one more point to talk about, " Ben states.

Both women look at Ben frustratingly, much has already been discussed, _'What more could there be?'_ was the thought that obviously is running through their minds.

Ben elaborates further. "Callie, you made an insightful statement earlier: _"Fool me twice shame on me."_

Callie sinks further into her chair with the not so subtle reminder.

"Callie, I'm not trying to make you feel uncomfortable, but you made a very important observation regarding shame. Shame is a devastating feeling. It's self-destructive. and keeps you in a place of fear. You mentioned counseling earlier, so it's safe to assume that you are seeing a therapist, I'm sure he or she will address this as well, but obviously you feel shame or are ashamed of being cheated on, more so because it happened twice. If you continue to carry that feeling within you, without ridding yourself of it, it will crush you. George and Arizona broke their vows, it is their burden to carry alone, not yours. Please don't blame yourself for their choice."

Ben turns to Arizona, "You, Arizona, also have to openly discuss the shameful feelings and thoughts you are harboring. You alluded to some today, when you spoke about the 'spiteful' decision to get on the plane, the general negative feeling of walking through the hospital doors and the feeling that you are not enough for Callie. You didn't know the plane would crash, I just read the odds are like 1 in 45 million. Your resident neglected to discuss his plan with you, as his teacher you needed to make a statement. As parents, teachers, employers, we constantly need to demonstrate consequences. If you felt he didn't have the best interest of the hospital at heart, then you needed to make a statement of some sort. It didn't pan out as planned but that wasn't your fault, yet you seem to be ashamed of those choices. You didn't cause the plane to crash or the hospital to go bankrupt."

Ben continues his assessment, "Accidents happen, illness ravages the body and sometimes can't be treated by the best medicine or surgeon and there are often consequences, financial and otherwise. Your colleague's deaths, the hospital's financial crisis and your amputation were some of those consequences. Your life was changed irrevocably and you'll only heal when you accept that you will never regain the lost limb and to move forward you need to stop looking where to place the blame for what happened to you."

Ben looks at Callie and Arizona and sees they are spent. "I have some literature for both of you to take. I want you to read up on shame and shame resilience, which is how to overcome shame. The ultimate antidote for shame is empathy. Empathy is grounded in honest, compassionate conversation. As Callie astutely noted, some of those conversations will take great courage to have."

Callie stands to accept the literature, and grabs her purse to leave, "Thank you Ben, you've been helpful. So Arizona, I'll be in touch. I'm going to get Sofia and say bye to your parents."

As she walks to the exit, Callie realizes that their time together for difficult, honest dialogue would cease once she walked out the door, Callie turns to Arizona and adds, "I'm sorry, I thought these conversations would be easier, that I could rid myself of some of the anger, but it's like it's just waiting to waylay me at every unsuspecting moment."

"I'm sorry, Callie. For everything," Arizona earnestly replies.

This time Callie hears the apology as it is meant to be heard, heartfelt. The three hour match is now over. The back and forth points were gained and lost by each, but in the end there was no winner. More importantly, no loser either. Callie yearned to hear that very apology for so long and now the anger she wrangled with daily, as she waited for for the those words to be genuinely spoken with true meaning behind them, suddenly dispersed, leaving a hollow, sad feeling within. Merely nodding in acknowledgment, Callie's glassy eyes gave Arizona her answer: 'Apology accepted but I'm returning to Pullman'.

After Callie leaves, Arizona vents, "This isn't how I wanted this to go. I don't want to be 'friends'."

"The one thing I would like to point out is Callie is not vindictive. She may be angry and hurt but to her credit, vengeful she is not. She respects your role in Sofia's life and she seems to welcome that you both will be forever connected through Sofia. It seems she wants to recover whatever is salvageable with your relationship," Ben explains.

"Callie has a big heart," Arizona replies.

"Did she try to repair her marriage with George?" Ben inquires.

Arizona shakes her head, "I don't think so. I know that she told him she forgave him but then they divorced anyway. I wasn't around for that, but from what I heard, she was crushed and then really pissed. She eventually figured out she wasn't in love with George and he wasn't in love with her. They were both in love with the need to be loved, if that makes sense. I think she just got caught up in the moment. George proposed to her after his father died and they got married over a weekend in Vegas. It made accepting what George did easier. But….," Arizona pauses.

"But what?" Ben asks.

"I hurt her more than George because she loved me more," the words dejectedly fall from Arizona's mouth.

Ben replies, "There are some really interesting parallels here that we should talk about at some point. For example, you feel that Callie didn't focus on you enough, similar to what Callie experienced with George. Also, it seems George asked Callie to marry her out of reaction to a stressful life event. You told me previously that you asked Callie to marry you after arguing about Mark's interference in your life. Perhaps that's why Callie asked you today whether or not you truly wanted marriage and kids. Her first marriage failed because it was built on shaky ground, so it stands to reason she feels insecure about and questions your true intentions. Especially, since you betrayed her by cheating like George. She may feel that you, like George, never, truly loved her. Though unlike George, you chose someone you barely knew, making it that much harder for her to understand and to forgive."

Needing to boost the morale of his patient, Ben says, "Well, you are going to have to work harder to get back into Callie's good graces, aren't you? You may not see it, since around Callie you still get angry and frustrated, but really the gains you have made are good. You smile more than when you started, you share more openly without prodding. You are spending more time with colleagues socializing and you are co-parenting. Believe me, that last one is a big step, often recently separated couples are too angry to put their children's welfare first. It's the beginning of December, this happened only four months ago. Really some of the issues have been around a long time, and the plane crash has been what, almost a year? Did you expect fixing the problems would take less time than the time they festered? " Ben notices Arizona relax a bit after hearing his words.

"You can't stay together for the wrong reasons either. Callie mentioned you seemed to have an ongoing issue with Mark. I gather you always resented that she had a sexual relationship with Mark, even though she never slept with him when you two were in a committed relationship. I understand better, since hearing the story of Callie's husband choosing his best friend over her, and how you may have worried that Callie would do the same with Mark, but did she ever betray you? Did she ever give you real reason, other than your fears rational or otherwise, to suspect that she would choose Mark over you? You can hardly expect Callie to readily forgive you for sleeping with another person WHILE you were married when you seem to hold resentment for her sleeping with someone else when you weren't," Ben points out.

Arizona shouts, "I don't want a divorce!"

Ben replies, "We can't always get what we want, Arizona. You know that."

Seeing the dejected look return to his patient's face, Ben continues to speak, "Arizona, you told me that the day you got married there was no minister, no paperwork, even Callie's family left, yet you both exchanged vows and that made it real for you, for your family and for your friends; it was enough. Yes, you eventually got a registered domestic partnership, but did that make your marriage anymore real? When Sofia was born, was there a piece of paper or document that made you her mother? Yet, in your eyes, Callie's eyes, and Sofia's eyes you are just that. Now you are perseverating over a piece of paper that originally held no meaning for you? Paperwork didn't stop the infidelity, or Callie from leaving. Let your heart be your guide, perhaps staying married is not your future or maybe it is. But right now it seems that you essentially need to start over. Learn to talk, to trust and to listen; that should be where you place your focus, and less concern over the documents regarding the divorce.

Arizona leaves the lengthy appointment by way of the post office. With tears clouding her eyes, she signs, seals, and mails the envelope back to the lawyer since really, Ben was right, her and Callie's heart sealed their marriage, not some document. Today, their partnership was not even worth the paper it was written on. It already proved it guaranteed it nothing. So she would take the advice and create a new, honest relationship with Callie, but what it would look like was beyond her comprehension.


	14. Chapter 14

Tuesday morning Alicia observed the last hour of Callie's lecture, afterward she conferenced with the surgeon-turned-professor, "Callie, you are really doing a terrific job, without a doubt, you're a gifted teacher. These kids are motivated, hard work does not faze a motivated student, you're creating a great batch of up and coming doctors. There is already a waiting list for your class next semester. Thank you."

"Thank you, Alicia. You and these students are doing wonders for my self-esteem, believe me. The more gruesome the case, the more fantastic they think I am." Callie replied, as she graciously accepted the compliment.

Somberly Alicia questions, "How was your meeting yesterday?"

"Hard. Long. Sad," Callie grimly answers. "I don't think I can get over the affair. I want to, but it's too much, at least right now."

"So what's your plan?" Alicia thoughtfully probes.

Seeing anguish paint the younger woman's face, as Callie pondered the question longer than she should, Alicia offers a reprieve from answering, "I'll keep you forever. You don't need to decide now, just know it's an option." Alicia proposes.

An audible sigh slipped from Callie's mouth, "Thanks, Alicia. I'm not ready to think that far ahead. I appreciate the offer though."

"Actually that's not even why I'm here. It seems your results in and out of the classroom are getting noticed, raising the bar around here. The Chancellor has personally requested that the hotshot professor in Pullman be the keynote speaker at the big WSU meeting in January. He's loving how you bring real word experience to class and apply it to academics, often it's the opposite - taking academics and applying it to life. It's at the main campus in Portland, all the department heads attend this one." Alicia divulges.

"Really?" Callie elatedly answers.

Alicia nods agreeingly, "Really. I'll get you the details, but I wanted to share the news with you in person."

"I'm not sure what to say, thank you for the opportunity, the space, the lab," Callie sincerely replies.

"Say nothing, this arrangement has benefited us both this semester." With that Alicia left her protege.

* * *

xxxxx

* * *

Arizona marched into Ben's office a few days after the joint session with Callie and point blank questions, "Do you think I'm selfish? Callie seems to think I am."

Taken back by her bluntness, Ben responds, "I don't recall her saying you were selfish. I think she used the word _'self-absorbed'_. Do you think there is a difference between the two?"

Arizona ponders the question a moment, then answers. "Well selfish to me is that it's all about me. I've guess I've been acting selfish at times but I don't think that makes me a selfish person."

Ben nods his head in agreement, "Agreed. How about self-absorbed? How would you define that?"

Taking longer to process this, Arizona languidly struggles with the nuances between the two words. Shrugging her shoulders, she finally says, "Focused on my own self without being aware of others around me? Umm, I have been self-absorbed, but I've had good reasons."

Shaking his head, amused at Arizona's intentional and continuing avoidance, "I'm listening," Ben queries.

"Uhh, plane crash, remember?" she answers priggishly.

"I've got to be honest here Arizona. I get the plane crashed, your leg was lost and life as you knew it forever changed. But, we're beating a dead horse now. Those are facts, none of those will ever change. We've reviewed your charts, we've spoken with Callie, we've unearthed your history. You're still mad. Could we be at a point that we need to take a break from our sessions, maybe we are plateauing? Perhaps you need to give yourself some time to think about what you really want from all this," Ben suggests.

"What? No!" instantaneously is the reply to the sole person that represents the one stable fixture in her life at the moment.

Ben gave an approving smile. "Well, I'm going to take that as a compliment. You were not really a willing participant when you started a few months ago. Now, you all but have taken up residence on my couch."

Arizona, slightly red with embarrassment, can only nod her head in agreement. "I uh...This was hard for me, but I know it's been good for me. I was reluctant, I know. But life was such a bully, it was easier to avoid the hurt than to confront it. You've taught me how face my problems. I don't want to run anymore."

Ben mulls Arizona's response for a moment and then proposes, "I'll tell you what. I think we need a different approach. We've spent considerable time discussing why you are upset and angry, that anger, not necessarily directed at Callie, tends to show itself in her presence. I want you to spend the next fews days understanding the challenges Callie has managed through this. How you can help her recover, which is what friends do for each other. Callie is in a unique place. She's suffered enormous loss, too, yet her reaction to that loss is quite different. She has asked nothing from you, except to allow her the space to heal. She is willing to share custody of Sofia. She's angry but not extraordinarily so. She's not bitter. She's not chasing you, nor is she trying to escape from you. Arizona, you need to lose the anger, it only serves to widen the chasm between you two. Something needs to change, it needs to be your outlook."

There was no quandary or conundrum, Arizona knew logically her reply needed to be, "Fine," but hearing Ben's words,_ 'She's suffered enormous loss'_ reminded her of the vulnerable person she promised to protect a few years back. For the first time in months, she looked forward.

* * *

xxxxx

* * *

Arizona returned to her apartment somewhat demoralized, but not entirely down and out. She liked Ben better when he was fixing her, not making her fix herself, too much introspection. She had no idea where to start. She decided the place to start was where they started. Pulling out her box of mementos, she sifts through. Her eye catches yellowed paper where Callie romantically penned her vows. They swapped their vows as keepsakes. Callie said keeping them would remind them that if they could overcome the challenges of _their_ day, then together anything was possible.

"Mark, you would have helped me with this," she said gazing upward. "Actually, I never would have done _it_ if you were here. You would have been the friend Callie needed and probably have continued to have been a pain in my ass, refusing to let me wallow. When you were part of my life, I was certain you were ruining it, but you weren't, you were keeping us on track. Now that you've gone, I've screwed it up. You asked me to take care of _'our girls'_. I've done a bang up job, haven't I?"

Returning her attention to the box, she rereads Callie's words, _"I choose you to be the one with whom I spend my life."_

Arizona reflects, "She chose me, not him. Then I chose to throw it away."

She pulls out_ 'the letter'_, the one from Callie that told of her departure. She rereads it, realizing it held no blame or accusations. "Just Callie letting me know she needs distance to heal, on her own. I'm not the wife, the friend or even the person, I should have been. I'm a liability. _'Through good times and bad,'_ Was I expecting it to be endless smooth sailing? How could I have been so indifferent to her experience? I wasn't there for her, she's figuring it out without me. She's creating a new life, where my presence is unnecessary and unneeded." Arizona concludes. "That needs to change."

* * *

Xxxxxx

* * *

A few weeks had passed since she was last in Seattle and Callie knew she was slowly moving forward toward complete healing, whatever that ended up meaning, she didn't know. The meeting with Ben and Arizona proved oddly comforting, even though the resolution seemed ominous. As much a Callie would like to will away the events of the last few months, it did not seem possible. Arizona seemed to trigger her anger and frustration, it burst through without warning. Ben showed them both it did not need to be either or, either married or not. He suggested middle ground. Instead of spouses, he proposed a different camaraderie. How about friends?

Thinking back to case of the young man with the neck problems, three of them specifically. Medically she could only repair one of them. The other two issues were the bickering parents. Listening to his parents go at each other's throats should constitute cruel and unusual punishment. Don't parents understand staying together_ 'for the sake of children'_ could ultimately be more detrimental. If she stayed married to Arizona would that be them? The fear of lingering anger was enough to keep Arizona at an arm's length at present.

Even with taking time to curse hindsight, there was little time to reflect on the events of the last few weeks. Callie had been swamped correcting all the papers she assigned while in her desolate state, instigated by the divorce proceedings. The result was she had been lacking a proper night's sleep for days now. In addition, she sequestered herself in her lab, furiously working through her most recent trial data. It was another week before the semester would end and then she had less than a week to correct the work and post the grades. Frustrated because as much as she loved teaching, she hated paperwork. At least when she was teaching residents at Grey-Sloan, correcting the term papers wasn't part of the task. It reminded her how she missed the exhilaration of the OR, nothing in academia even came close.

Wednesday night Callie inadvertently dozed off while grading. At some ungodly hour, she heard a noise. Startled by the trill of her cell phone, she searched for the source, buried under the paper mountain. Callie finally unearths it and still in a sleepy stupor, answers quickly, "Hello."

Silence. Callie looks at the phone to see what number is calling, it's Arizona's.

"Arizona?" she asks with trepidation.

Muffled sobs are finally heard through the receiver, "Alright Arizona, you need to talk to me. What's wrong?"

"I couldn't do it." she whispers hoarsely.

"What couldn't you do?" Callie questions firmly.

"I couldn't fix it," she finally says weakly.

Hearing the forsakenness in Arizona's voice, Callie understands immediately what has transpired. For a brief moment, Callie is awakened to the understanding that despite their distance, their time apart and even their anger, she can relate not only the misery Arizona is suffering but her own heart is choking on the very grief Arizona is struggling to cope with. Callie intrinsically wants nothing more than to lessen the pain of the woman who is miles away but whose emotional torment tugs at her unceasingly.

"Arizona, are you at home or at the hospital?" Callie unconsciously used the word "home", that alone calms Arizona.

"Home."

"Good. Crawl into bed, okay? Then I need you tell me about the surgery, okay Arizona? What was the procedure…." Callie kept the questions coming, pulling the pain from her wife and helping Arizona realize that she did her best, and sometimes that is all that can be done. As the phone call continues, Arizona's answers become clearer, more complete and less tearful.

An hour later, Callie winds down the call, "Are you good Arizona?"

"Not really. Callie, I can't do this alone." Arizona then whispers, "I need you Callie."

"Arizona, you can always call me." Callie earnestly responds, though aware that was not exactly what Arizona was implying.

Needing to alleviate the weight of Arizona's confession, she adds, "Hey, and those cigarettes that I'm sure you bought on your way home - you better throw those out. I'm not kidding," Callie sternly admonishes.

Arizona laughs uncomfortably into the receiver, "What?" Callie can feel the guilt vibrating through the phone.

"Arizona Robbins, just how much of an idiot do you think I am?" Callie sternly lectures with humor lacing her voice. "I know exactly how this plays out, things haven't changed that much," Callie needles Arizona.

Feigning indignation, the pediatric surgeon replies, "Callie!"

"Hmmm" was the only response.

She continued teasing, feeling ultimately at ease with where the conversation had ended up.

Unable to dodge her culpability, Arizona finally answers, "Fine, but maybe I should just keep them in my locker at work. I don't want to keep supporting the tobacco industry every time I have a bad day."

"Arizona," was the crescendoed response. Callie silently chuckles after she said it, thinking that she must have sounded much like Ricky Ricardo, "Lucy…!"

"Go to bed Arizona. Some kid is going to need a win tomorrow and you are going to give it to him, but you need a good night's sleep to do it. Do you need anything?" Callie paused as the words flew from her lips. Of course Arizona needed something; something she was no longer able to supply and the tension following the short silence said that her wife was feeling the same emptiness. Words would only do so much to help Arizona, but as their physical relationship hadn't just stalled but died, words were all she had to offer. Sighing, she tried to clear her throat. "You're set, right?" She asked knowing that had to be enough."

"I am Callie, thank you. It… it was good to talk to you. Good night." Arizona hung up the phone.

Though the call is over, Callie whispers,"Good night, Arizona. It was good to talk to you, too." While the nature of the call was initially sad, the back and forth chat over surgical steps left her far from sated. For the first time in months, she missed her old job.. ... and so much more than she can admit even to herself.

* * *

xxxxxxxx

* * *

Callie consistently continued to attend her weekly counseling. Ben was right, the minute she mentioned shame. Dr. Mills eagerly spouted off current philosophies. Empathetic communication and spirituality were among the buzzwords. Her recent phone call with Arizona came to mind. That call constituted a conversation and it was empathetic. It wasn't about them directly but indirectly it was, the fact that the two so easily shared a dialogue said something, said a lot.

In light of the recent gains and decision to establish a friendship, when she thought about it, she would have no issue calling Arizona if she needed to work through something. Dr. Mills was too clinical and too young. She couldn't shake the mentor perspective she had of Alicia, and the age difference alone made certain the conversations uncomfortable. Jeff, well, Jeff was great to talk to but there was no way she was going to subject him already to her baggage and scare him off. Arizona was a good go-to person if she needed, unless of course, the conversation was about Jeff and she really did not have much to say about that subject at this point. All things being equal, Callie would give her friendship with Arizona a chance, putting faith in Arizona once again by putting her own foot forward.

"Callie," Dr. Mills began, "we've covered a great deal, your family, your grief at the lose of your friends and even your separation from your wife. But you have conveniently managed to avoid discussing the infidelity. We really need to do that today. You did mention that you were casually dating someone. Prior to becoming too emotionally invested in another relationship, you need to address your fears, a bit of your history and then be honest with your prospective partner regarding your expectations. I get that the easiest avenue is to believe ignorance is bliss. But more often than not, that tends to ultimately backfire."

The two hashed out the similarities and difference between her marriages. They discussed the accusation that Callie did not prioritize Arizona.

"Callie, you'll never please everyone. Once you accept that, things will start to be clearer. It's your responsibility to set your own limits. Saying "No" needs to be an option. An option that you actually use."

_'No'_ was a rare response, an under-utilized word in Callie's vocabulary. Her tenacity had no room for the words_ 'No'_ or _'I can't_' Her doggedness gave way to her successes and as she now understands, her failures as well. She couldn't refute Arizona's claim.

Dr. Mills explained, "Awareness is the solution. When you have multiple tasks or activities, take a moment to decide which one takes precedence and then follow-through. Thema Davis said it best, _'Have the clarity and courage to not enter every door and to not accept every invitation. Protect your peace.'_"

Rarely did Dr. Mills tell her what needed to be done. Normally, her sessions with the young psychologist would be Callie processing aloud, once she verbalized the issue, the problem and solution became obvious. Unlike Ben, where the sessions appeared more interactive, Dr Mills merely provided the venue for Callie to work through her own issues, only redirecting her when absolutely necessary. Today, Callie wasn't sure what was more annoying, being told what she needed to do or the fact that the very young doctor was right.

* * *

Xxx

* * *

Later in the week Callie was finishing up some tedious documentation, having remained squirreled away in the lab for the day. Jeff popped in, smiling as he admired Callie deep in thought. "Hi Stranger, I thought I might find you here. Have you even eaten today?"

Shaken from her concentration, she is dumbfounded at his simple question. Callie pretends ignorance, stuttering, "Uh, Uh …" as she unsuccessfully attempts to recall when she last ate.

Jeff shook his head at her blasé attitude toward sustenance, "You need to eat. What if you are on the verge of a major breakthrough, but you starve to death just before the big moment of discovery and the world never hears of your medical miracle? Let's get Sofia and grab a quick bite."

Callie laughs at his silly argument and she is flattered at his concern, "Okay," she answers, realizing she was indeed hungry.

Callie suddenly becomes contemplative. She clearly is hashing something over Jeff observes, but he lets her be, as was his habit. After Callie silently locks up her lab, and the two walk toward the parking lot, she says, "Jeff, I want to talk to you about something. Do you remember Arizona?"

Jeff replies, "Your friend I met in the cafeteria a few weeks back?

Callie nods, "Well, yeah, about that. Um, we should talk ..."

Dinner had gone smoothly, Jeff focusing much of his attention on Sofia however leaving Callie at a standstill. He commented very little on what she said and his feelings, the only real thing was his query about her sexuality where she, after stuttering and freezing, and feeling foolish that it was even an issue, admitted to being attracted to the person, not what was or wasn't between their legs. He seemed to have accepted that answer but made no other comments, just listening. It wasn't until the end of the meal when they were walking back that he reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together, giving her a nonverbal answer to the questions looming in her mind since she 'came out' to him in more than one way. It was enough.

* * *

xxxxx

* * *

Christmas was just a few days away. Sofia was back with Callie. To escape the loneliness magnified by the holidays, Arizona would much rather be distracted by the excited energy of her patients in the Pediatric ward rather than suffering through a board meeting. The interminable meeting had digressed to the purchasing of janitorial supplies. Did they really need to spend valuable time discussing what kind of toilet paper was needed? So instead, she found something else to distract her on her cell phone.

"Robbins" Cristina barked "What is so important that you can't pay attention? At least it's a topic we all have a vested interest in."

"Hmm," Arizona answers absentmindedly.

Perturbed at being ignored, Cristina huffs,"Give me that," grabbing the phone.

"No, Cristina. Give me that back," a red-faced Arizona pleads.

Bailey shakes her head at the grade-school antics.

"Cristina, my phone," Arizona insists as she extends her hand.

Cristina looks down at the screen and reads the screen.

Cristina blurts, "Oh, Robbins, this is naughty. Are you sexting?"

"No! I'm not. I mean….. Cristina. I need my phone! Now," Arizona crossly demands.

The meeting comes to a stand-still with the playful bickering. Jackson Avery pipes in. "Anything you want to share with us Dr. Robbins?" he asks with a smirk.

Cristina interjects, "Probably not, unless you want hear some dirty snowman jokes. I guess your celibacy streak is over," she says having gazed at the unfamiliar number. Cristina's intentional disparagement of Arizona with the well placed dig clearly upsets the pediatric surgeon.

Bailey just shakes her head in disgust as she glowers at Arizona.

Totally mortified at the unprofessional turn of events, at a board meeting no less, Arizona, in order to save face, needs to explain. "It's not what you think," she pleads.

Derek and Jackson try to hide their amusement. Bailey continues to glare unrelentingly at Arizona.

Abashed, Arizona reveals, "It's Callie. The jokes are from Callie. There was a comedian on campus this weekend and he was really funny. She wanted to share the jokes with someone. It's not like she can share with Sofia this Frosty humor. It's R-rated,...to say the least."

"Why isn't she in your contacts?" Cristina challenges. "This looks more like a one night stand."

Her fear of being ostracized outweighs her fear of sharing the nature of her true relationship with Callie, she reluctantly explains. "This is Callie's new number in Pullman. I thought if I added it to my contacts it would make it feel more permanent. I don't want that. So I left it as just a number. We are talking as friends, only as friends," she clarifies.

Bailey gives Arizona an encouraging smile.

"Did she send more?" Cristina asks enthusiastically, as she scrolls through the messages.

* * *

xxxx

* * *

Callie danced joyously as David Guetta's _'Titanium'_ blasted through her lab. She did it! She dared and won! Her focus on her articular cartilage research had finally paid off resulting in this latest round of hip gyrating, sunglass wearing, head swaying, arm waving movement, and uninhibited singing.

"You shout it out, But I can't hear a word you say, I'm talking loud not saying much, I'm criticized but all your bullets ricochet, You shoot me down but I get up, I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose, Fire away,fire away, Ricochet, you take your aim, You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium, You shoot me down but I won't fall, I am titanium."

Alicia Proficio couldn't help but hear the singing and notice the wild dancing as she approached the Orthopedist's lab. Callie's had essentially gone into seclusion once she returned from Seattle after Thanksgiving, which meant Callie was still running from her problem. Maybe she wasn't running, per se, but without Arizona in her life, all the passionate energy that ignited Calliope Torres needed to be channeled so it was her lab and teaching.

In the months since Callie moved to Pullman, she wondered whether or not she would ever see her friend like this again; the badass, take no crap, self-confident, rockstar. She is overjoyed to see Callie Torres back. Needing to know the reason, she cautiously pushes the lab doors open, interrupting Callie mid twerk.

"Wow! Good to have you back Callie" she greets her colleague, "What brought this on? Not that I'm not enjoying the show."

"Crap!" Callie yelled mid lyric, "You scared the shit out of me. I did it!" she screamed, running to her friend and enveloping her in a big hug.

"Did what, discover world peace?" Alicia laughs.

"Close," Callie grins, "Remember how I was having trouble with my cartilage being too much like Jell-O and being weak unlike natural cartilage? It wasn't working in our test subjects. We were drilling holes in the bones near the affected joints, releasing blood and stem cells but my cartilage wasn't strong or lasting long enough for new cartilage to grow on. We call it scaffolding; the gel needs to provide the structure for cartilage cells to regenerate themselves on before it dissolves. Well, I fixed the problem! It's actually great that I'm here at WSU; all of the biological engineering researchers here helped me out. I changed my hydrogel to a combination of polyacrylamide, the stuff disposable contact lenses are made of, and alginate, which is a food thickener made of seaweed; similar to cornstarch. Anyway, the new hydrogel is flexible; I can stretch it up to 20 times the original length without breaking. It's extremely strong, self-heals, is organic and biocompatible; the test subjects aren't rejecting it. We implanted it in our test subjects before Thanksgiving and it's worked! Do you know how exciting this is? We can test in humans. The experimental subjects had less invasive surgery, they healed quicker and had less pain than the control subjects who had just the microfracturing procedure. I can fix that nasty hip of yours, Alicia, without having to replace the joint."

After the initial hubbub, Callie takes one more moment to gloriously bask in her success alone. Still running on the energetic high of the afternoon, she enthusiastically packs her briefcase for the night. "I still can't believe it," she says aloud, maintaining a conversation with herself. "All the ups and downs," she thought, as she remembered starting the whole things a few years back in Seattle. "No one believed I could do it. Well, Arizona did. Arizona! I need to tell Arizona. She'll be psyched!"

Grabbing her cell phone, she sends Arizona a text:** My cartilage works. I did it!**

Moments later a reply,** I told you that you were amazing and I was right! You are amazing. Congratulations!**

Before Callie could fashion a reply, Jeff walks through the lab doors effectively ending the cellular chat. He cheerfully says, "Hey Cal, I just bumped into Alicia. I'm taking you out to celebrate."

* * *

Xxxxx

* * *

As Callie prepares for work one chilly morning, she realizes that the mirrored reflection before her was unfamiliar, different. There was a foreign smile gracing her face, a smile she never thought would find her again. But it did. She knew why. Chiding herself for not recognizing earlier that her life had finally taken an upward turn and recognizing that her prayers had essentially been heard, she knew she should give thanks. She made a bold decision to return to the place that essentially turned her out. Callie decided to revisit the reason for the season; she would attend the Children's Mass Christmas Eve with Sofia.

Taking time to be grateful with the positive turn of events in her life felt like the right thing to do. Her research is paying off. Sofia is handling the dual households and shared time between mothers remarkably well. Arizona can be considered a friend, they aren't exactly BFF's but they are having occasional conversations by phone, or via text, some even pleasantly inappropriate. Callie smirked with the mature subject matter the two had occasionally shared of late, reminiscent of their initial months together when their text messages resembled frequent, provocative innuendo, which often ended in pleasing results. Arizona's serious demeanor made her fun to banter with, Callie playfully mused. During their most recent exchange of Sofia, they had even coffee together when they met in Ellenburg. The loneliness that had initially stalked her, seemed to wane, especially with Jeff becoming more present in her life.

Ben's literature had suggested that for some people spirituality had allowed for some peace and closure amidst the turmoil. This was reiterated by Deena Mills. The words that had been ingrained in her head since her youth rang true, _"as we forgive those who trespass against us."_ Yes, church would be a good thing. She didn't agree with everything but cornerstones of the Church: love and forgiveness she believed with all her soul.

In the few short weeks, Jeff had slowly become more of a presence in her life. She knew he was surprised to learn of her true relationship with Arizona but it did not deter him. He was patient and kind, allowing Callie as much time and space as she needed. He refused to let her shut the world out, though she tried. He frequently showed up with coffee, lunch, and a reassuring smile. Callie lowered her defenses and now, over the last couple weeks, Jeff was a dinner guest a few times each week.

Jeff insisted Callie and Sofia attend the annual community sing-along held every Christmas Eve in the town's center. A local music teacher stood on a makeshift stage, directing the chorus of men, women and children, of all ages, in melodic song. As Callie left Mass, her step felt lighter. Callie walked to the gathering, located on the town green. Jeff, intermittently sparkling, was easy to spot. He was wearing a holiday tie which twinkled like a decorated tree. Mesmerized by its flickering lights, Sofia dove right into his arms. With each song, Callie sang with more confidence. Jeff could not help but be entranced by not just her beauty, but her voice. When she sang Silent Night, he knew he was falling in love.

After the entourage finished with a rousing verse of We Wish You A Merry Christmas, the three of them returned to Callie's house. Callie promised Jeff a home-cooked meal once Sofia was tucked soundly in bed, hopefully_ 'while visions of sugarplums danced in her head'._

The Christmas carols continued to play in her head, and Callie subconsciously sang along as she prepared the meal. Jeff sat quietly in the living room, 'It's a Wonderful Life' played on the TV, he muted the volume so as not to drown out Callie's voice.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Hey Cal, you expecting someone?" Jeff asks as he stands and walks toward the door.

Surprised, but not overly so, "No. Would you get it? it's probably a late delivery, my father usually sends something for Sofia, but nothing arrived so far."

Callie continues to place the meal on the table as Jeff opens the door.

Two sets of surprised eyes stare at each other, Jeff breaks the stalemate. "Umm, I'm thinking you were expecting Callie. She's in the the kitchen. Come in."

The table is set for two, the candles lit, the tree sparkling in the background. Callie almost drops the appetizing platter, "Arizona?" as she sees her almost ex-wife standing in the doorway.

Unprepared for the sight before her, finding she is intruding on the dinner for two, Arizona stands speechless.

Callie meekly asks, "Why are you here?" Callie had totally forgotten about Arizona. Between church, the caroling, and Sofia's excitement of Santa's impending visit, she realized that not one thought of Arizona had crossed her mind recently. Guilt immediately consumes Callie, Arizona most likely had no spirit of the season to comfort her through these holidays and Callie felt that neglecting her, even in thought, bordered on mean-spirited.

Arizona knew she needed to battle her emotions to keep her tears at bay. She didn't want Callie to see her cry at something as simple as dinner, really she was probably just reading into this. What did she expect, knocking unexpectedly on Callie's door. Trying to gather her composure, Arizona stammers, "I'm sorry. I...I just. Sofia's present, I just wanted it to be there for her Christmas morning. I didn't mean to intrude. I didn't realize...I'll just leave the gift and go."

Callie's need to mend what's broken overrides any thoughts she had of a romantic dinner for two with Jeff. Despite the awkwardness and without as much as a glance Jeff's way, Callie immediately offers, "Arizona, you drove five hours to get here. I'm sure you haven't even eaten. Come on, you're just in time for dinner, there's plenty, sit down."

Jeff pipes up, "A glass of wine, it's Chardonnay?"

Giving Jeff a forlorn look, Arizona nods her head defeatedly.

While the meal was delicious, the initial forced conversation left everyone in peril of indigestion. The only safe topic was Sofia, but really how much was there to say? Keenly aware of how ill at ease Callie was, Jeff manages to steer the conversation to a more generic topic as he told tales of his worldwide travel. Soon the three were laughing at the adventures and in some instances, misadventures Jeff had experienced.

Dessert was served in the living room, chocolate torte. Arizona ruminated on how much she missed Callie's cooking. As the trio entered the living room, George Bailey had just had his epiphany. Callie shut off the foolish movie, opting for some seasonal tunes instead. No one could deny the scene was picturesque, the frosted windows, roaring fireplace, the storybook Christmas tree standing in the corner and the room's occupants lulled by the familiar tunes.

Beneath the warm facade, Arizona was conflicted with emotions of envy, sadness and fury. She was envious of Callie's ability to move forward, while she continued to take only baby steps. Sad memories of Christmases past flooded her mind, that tonight she was merely an observer to what she had previously been an active participant. Finally, Arizona remained furious at herself, for creating her own bed of misery.

After eating every bite of her torte, Arizona stands and announces, "I should leave, it's late. I'll just get the box."

"Arizona do you even have a place to stay?" Callie questions with concern.

Avoiding Callie's eyes, she shakes her head, "I noticed a hotel on my way in, I'll be fine."

"You can just stay here." Callie hospitably offers.

"I can't, I'm intruding. I'm sorry" she says, as she looks at Jeff.

Jeff, who has kept very quiet, "Actually, I was just getting ready to go," he says thoughtfully looking at Arizona. "Really. Arizona, why don't I get that gift for Sofia out of your car."

Her attempts to be angry or annoyed at Jeff fail again._ 'Why must he be be so damn nice?'_ she thinks.

"Thank you Jeff, I'd appreciate that. It's in the backseat. It's unlocked."

As Jeff walks out the door, Arizona apologizes again. "I didn't mean to send Jeff home."

Annoyed that Arizona assumed Jeff was spending the night, Callie crossly replies, "He was leaving Arizona. We're not there yet, plus technically we're still married, I'm not sleeping with anyone while that's still true."

Arizona immediately sulks, "Right, shove it in my face."

"Don't do that to me, Arizona. You aren't going to make me feel bad for respecting my vows. I didn't say it to make you feel bad, it's just a fact. You need to understand that I'm not going to sugarcoat your indiscretions so you can feel less culpable."

Arizona was ready to pounce, to remind Callie neither woman was faultless. But the vision of the two strong legs striding up the walkway reminded her that picking a fight with Callie on Christmas Eve was not only just plain stupid, but misguided because in truth her animosity was mostly at herself and bickering with Callie as Jeff waited in the wings would surely be self-sabotaging.

Jeff returns to the house, hiding behind the mountainous box. He is greeted with obvious tension as he enters the house, and silently concludes his imminent departure was well-timed.

Jeff's return breaks the palpable agitation. "Arizona, what did you get her?" Callie exclaims as she sees the monstrosity.

"It's a ball pit, kind of like the one at Chuck E. Cheese, well not as big, but big enough. I bought extra balls, too!" She excitedly explains. "Do you know how germy those things are? They're gross, really disgusting. You might need to help me figure out how to put it together," she puzzledly remarks as she stares at the contraption. As quickly as her anger surfaced, it dissipates just as fast with the change in topic.

After placing the oversize box by the tree, Jeff says his goodbyes. "I'm going to get moving. Nice to see you again, Arizona. Merry Christmas."

Since the feeling wasn't reciprocal, it wasn't _'nice to see you, too'_, she didn't not return nicety. But in the spirit of the season she answered, "Merry Christmas to you too, Jeff."

Callie offers, "I'll walk you out."

Arizona peeks, hopefully undetected, out the window, just in time to see Callie kiss Jeff goodnight. She all but starts foaming at the mouth.

Realizing that her bitterness would serve no purpose, especially in light of the hospitality Callie has spontaneously extended to her on Christmas Eve, Arizona walks away from the window so she would witness no more and starts to open the box. Minutes later, Callie enters the house, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, trying to warm herself from the chilling winds that whipped about.

"So, can I help you tackle that?" Callie asks, looking at Arizona who is processing the directions.

"That would be great, Callie."

"Wine?" Callie asks, as she hands Arizona a glass without waiting for an answer.

"Thanks." Touched by Callie's simple gesture, Arizona graciously accepts the glass

The two silently construct the ball pit, a few missteps resulted in giggles. Their attempt to wrap the gigantic present produced even more silliness. Once complete, both women stood side by side, admiring their handiwork.

"Why did you come tonight Arizona?" Callie questions wondering the true reason for Arizona's visit, certain that there would not be a honest answer but asked anyway.

"It was important to me that I delivered my gift tonight." Arizona sincerely replies.

"She's going to love this Arizona, but she's only four. It didn't matter if she opened it tomorrow or in two weeks."

"That's not the gift I'm talking about, it's not even really a gift." Arizona weakly manages.

Callie looks perplexed at Arizona, not sure at all where this conversation was going.

"Callie, I've been thinking a lot about this whole mess. The mess I created. I reread your letter, the one you sent. I knew your were hurt and angry. But you didn't leave me out of spite. You left to find yourself. When I slept with someone else, I changed everything for both of us. As I read your words, it was as if you deep down believed you were in part to blame. Ben was right, that's on me, my fault. Until I tell you why I did it, you'll never be able to move on, walk tall. That's all you've wanted. I want to give you that chance to find yourself, to be who you are meant to be and move on."

"Arizona, you don't have to do this. It's Christmas." Callie shakily counters, noting the clock is well past midnight. Callie's immediate reaction was why tarnish the holiday with this messy business. But it only took a second or two to remember Christmas was already sullied, Arizona was merely a guest in her house, a transient in her holiday celebration. Next year, Sofia would be with Arizona and Callie would be the wandering visitor, seeking a Christmas invitation to dodge the solitude.

Then she considered Arizona's tell-all offer. Was Arizona really going to tell her the truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth? If she did, was she ready to listening earnest to Arizona, and hear the spoken words?

"That's why I have to do this Callie. I've taken so much from you. It's all I have to give you, the truth."

Callie nods, and sits on the couch, pulling her knees to her chest as she leans into the arm of the sofa.

Arizona sits directly opposite, at the far end of the couch.

She turns to face Callie, "I never set out to hurt you. I was angry at you. I was angry because you cut my leg off. I spent four days convincing myself you would make everything all right if we were rescued. The thought that you would fix me was what kept me alive. I was so sure that you would, when that didn't happen, I was angry. I needed someone to focus my anger on, it was you. At first it was because I knew I could, I knew you would be there tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. I didn't know how to ask for help, I didn't understand what was happening to me. Each day it became harder to figure out why I should even try. Ben explained it was the depression; that PTSD is often accompanied by depression."

Arizona pauses a moment. "But each day got harder, the demands on you became greater. As you reached out to support those in need, what I saw was you pulling away. In my frustration, I withdrew. Each day, the coldness that filled my veins spread, making me indifferent to you and Sofia.

And Mark died. Mark Sloan. The man I wished everyday would be wiped from my life, died. My morose wish came true. In the woods, I clung to him and he to me. During those four days, I came to regret every bad thought I had about him, but it was too little too late. I finally realized he was that annoying older brother whose job it was to make my life miserable and safe. He had my back all along and I never saw it until the end. I wondered what kind of god would make my morbid wish come true but that wish did come true. As foolish as it may seem, I feel it's my fault, that I wished him dead."

Callie tearfully interrupted, "No, Arizona. Stop, it wasn't your fault he died. You don't need to continue," she pleads.

Arizona waves Callie's request off, "It feels that way, that I should have died, not him. I need to do this; you deserve to hear this."

So Arizona grimly proceeds, "I hated myself and I wanted you to hate me too. In my mind I was in part responsible for your best friend's death. I made it easy for you. I was such a bitch. But, you never gave up reaching out and I rebuffed your efforts, over and over. There were moments I saw us, the old us. I would vacillate between the old me and this broken, new me. Then I would look in the mirror and I saw my stump and I wished I had died. I felt ugly and broken. I wondered what you saw in me with my cruel heart and disfigured body. I didn't love myself, how could you possibly love me. Then, in my anger, I convinced myself you didn't want me, that was why you were never around. I assumed you were being dutiful and standing by me because I know you would never leave me, because you had to stay, not because you wanted to. It's not rational, but I wasn't rational. I know that now."

Callie wipes the tears that were now cascading down her cheeks.

Despite Callie's tears, Arizona remains stalwart, knowing it was most likely now or never to provide the overdue, truthful explanation."Everyday you seemed more out of reach. Everyday we seemed farther apart. Everyday I cared less and less because I felt like a horrible person. The whole world seemed to be functioning at speed much faster than me. I felt left behind. It wasn't me or at least it wasn't the person I wanted to be. The PTSD made me feel like a despicable person. The depression made me not care. It was a lethal combination. I was dead inside. In my mind, I was an ugly, unworthy, terrible person that you didn't want. Life droned on."

Arizona stands and walks to the window, unable to even look at Callie at this point as she approaches the climax of the tale.

"Then Lauren Boswell came. She was a new face, a breath of fresh air in the monotonous hospital after such a terrible time. I can only explain it like a night of drinking. The first time we met, it was like going to Joe's and having that first drink, she took the edge of despair of my life and my self-confidence rose a bit. Then, the second time, that time in the X-ray room, it was like having a second drink, I was buzzed, buoyed not only by her seductive energy and by your enthusiasm of her. You saw her as awesome, words that even if you said to me, I would have blocked out because I was convinced you were patronizing me. Then, she flirted with me, and I was feeling no pain and my inhibitions started to fade. The pain of the last months seemed so far away and all I could feel was my sexual desire return. A beautiful woman wanted me. No strings seemingly attached. Maybe I wasn't so broken. So I essentially drank some more, but now it was like being at the point where common sense and reason were long gone and my self-control was non-existent."

The tears had ceased and Callie was now also standing, arms crossed, using every ounce of willpower to not explode with disgust.

"I was truly blinded with lust but not love Callie. This stranger comes to town and comes on to me, and I felt alive, rousing me from my numb state. For that short amount of time, I didn't care about our marriage, about you or even Sofia. I knew what I was doing, but I felt nothing for so long that this want stirred within me, the sensation was exciting, and intriguing really. I convinced myself what difference did it make, you were staying with me out of duty. I didn't care if you found out, it would be for the best really. You would hate me and then have a just reason to leave me. I actually made myself believe I was doing you a favor. It was like being irrationally drunk. But when that drunken state passed just a bit later, that awful hungover feeling came along with the remorse. I hate myself, Callie. Never have I been so disgusted with me."

"I have no excuses Callie, ultimately the decisions I made were mine. There were plenty of opportunities to seek help before I even let myself get to that stage. Really, the only reason I even got help as because you and Sofia left. I had nothing left. You said to heal if I wanted be with Sofia. If you hadn't left, I don't even know how bad I would have gotten. All I can say is I wasn't in my right mind. I was depressed and I have PTSD. I think I am over the depression, but the PTSD may be a lifelong challenge. It may return. But I understand it now. Counseling for me is a long-term process."

Arizona turns so she is facing Callie directly, making certain that her words can be clearly heard, so that there is no misunderstanding as to what she is about to say.

"I have never stopped loving you. What I did was never because I didn't love you, it was because I didn't love me. I am learning to do that again. There has been so much I've needed to talk about and reflect on, way back to Tim. Ben says I'm complicated. When Tim died, I shut the world out, afraid to let anyone in because I refused to risk getting hurt again. Then slowly you worked your way into my heart. Then with crash, and Lexi then Mark, with Nick dying, my leg. It was too much for me."

Arizona stops briefly, wondering if Callie can hear the sincerity of her disclosure. She peers at Callie, whose body language, which previously screamed anger, now whimpers. Callie's arms appear to be holding herself as if to keep her body from splitting apart at the seams. After her declaration of consciously entering that on-call room, Arizona felt she no longer had the right to comfort Callie, and she was forced to watch Callie, stand alone, listening to the pathetic narration.

Arizona finally concludes, "But as crushing as it was grieving those losses, I discovered being alone, truly alone, was far worse. You left with Sofia. I shut out everyone at the hospital, not that they were very pleased with me anyway. I was avoiding my parents. I had no one, that was devastating. But now I'm good, at least on the road to good. I disappointed you as a wife, but I'll do my best never to disappoint you as a friend."

Callie momentarily considers the explanation. It was what she had longed to hear, that it wasn't her, that it was Arizona's own shortcomings that instigated the cheating. In her dreams, hearing this truth would be the balm to heal her wounds, the cure-all. However, this was a case where the antidote was as painful as the ailment. It hurt to hear Arizona speak the truth and it was even more painful to absorb the meaning of what she said. The result was her conflicted soul was left throbbing with confusion.

"Thank you, I appreciate you finally telling me. We should have both handled things differently, we both needed counseling separately and together. After your leg was amputated, we should have gotten professional help. I'm not going to lie, the fact that you so easily put me, our marriage aside for stranger is hard for me to get past. I can't help but feel like it is a deal breaker for me, but friends. I can try to do friends. Between Sofia and the hospital we own, we have a history and we're bound together in a future too. I'm not angry anymore, but hurt, well I don't think that will ever heal," Callie earnestly explains.

Arizona nods her head, accepting her penance, "So Jeff seems like a nice guy."

"He is," Callie answers. "He's the real deal, but I'm taking it slow. Nice or not, I'm not ready."

Arizona was able to breathe a sigh of relief; she knew she wasn't ready to stand on the sidelines and watch Callie start her life anew with another person. Callie's cautious trek forward was a reprieve, albeit brief. She hadn't heard one word about their divorce from Callie since the subject was first broached and she was ignorant of the timeline of the courts. She failed to read the specifics of the documents prior to mailing them back.

Callie pipes up, "It's late, we should get to bed. Sofia will be up early. Take my bed, I'll sleep on the couch."

"Callie," Arizona objects.

"Arizona with your leg, you really need a bed. Plus you have a five hour drive tomorrow and you need to work. Take the bed, the couch is really pretty comfortable. Please."

"Thank you, Callie."

"There are t-shirts in the top drawer if you need something to sleep in. Help yourself."

"Thanks. Goodnight. Callie."

"Goodnight, Arizona."

Callie awoke the next morning not quite sure where she was. It took a minute to process that she slept on the couch because Arizona was in her bed. She grabbed her watch to figure out the time. Eight-thirty. Startled, she sprang out of bed, Sofia never slept this late. She ran to Sofia's door and pushed it open. Her stomach sank. Empty.

She turned and quickly found her own bedroom. Fearful that it may too disclose the same results. Right,_ 'Merry Christmas Callie and by the way, I took Sofia'_ was the foolish fear churning in her mind. She was about throw open her own door when she hears some hushed voices. Leaning her head against the door, she quietly chastises herself for her unfounded worries. However, the unfortunate reality was she did not entirely trust Arizona. On Christmas morning of all days, after Arizona drove five hours to tell her the very truth she had begged for, her first thought was Arizona had left with Sofia. It was absurd. The absurdity of the whole situation embraced her.

She quietly opened the door and peered in, on the bed, propped up by pillows was Arizona reading to Sofia. Sofia had showered Arizona with books, and it would appear they had devoured a few already.

Shaking off her poorly construed fears, Callie cheerfully said, "Merry Christmas!"

"Mommy" shrieked Sofia. "Look! " and the young girl wrapped her arms around Arizona.

"I know, an extra surprise for Christmas. " Callie shares a warm smile with Arizona as the two silently exchanged greetings.

"Let me get the coffee going and how about some pancakes?"

Arizona and Sofia break out into simultaneous smiles, each of them loved pancakes.

Called couldn't help but grin. "I'll take that as a yes," and she walked away.

Before entering the kitchen, she turned the Christmas tree lights on and found some classical Christmas music to play in the background.

Right now, at this very moment in time, she felt peaceful and wanting for nothing.

After breakfast, gifts were opened. Callie felt sad that no item was left under the tree for Arizona. Daniel and Barbara had sent gifts for Callie and Sofia. Arizona's present from her parents was waiting in Seattle to be opened. In all likelihood, it would be her only gift. There was the homemade ornament from Sofia, but that had been given last week when Arizona last had Sofia.

"Your parents are great, Arizona, " Callie remarked as Sofia played with one of the toys they had sent.

Arizona looked around and realized that the only gift remaining was hers to Sofia. "Your father didn't send anything?" she observed.

Callie's glassy eyes gave her the answer. Callie shook her head.

Arizona scooted near Callie, making a deliberate move to place her hand on Callie's leg, to let Callie know in a small way that she understood her disappointment. It was as much physical contact as she dared under the circumstances. "I'm sorry Callie, I'm sure it will arrive in a day or so. Miami to Pullman is not easy to find," Arizona said in jest.

Callie managed a small smile at Arizona's thoughtfulness, afraid to say more, since only sobs would probably escape.

The two women sat back, watching Sofia gleefully tore the paper off the towering present and dove inside seeing the plethora of balls.

By 11:00am Arizona was preparing to depart. She volunteered for the Christmas shift to save herself from the loneliness that was sure to accompany her that day. Wanting to retain the magic of the morning for as long as possible, she left just enough time to get back for her shift at Grey-Sloan. After saying goodbye to Sofia, who was knee deep in balls, Arizona walked to her car with Callie.

"Thanks Callie, this was, well it was wonderful and generous of you. Have a great rest of your day, please give my best to Alicia," where Callie and Sofia would be enjoying Christmas dinner.

"I will. Drive safe. And Merry Christmas, Arizona," Callie said.

Arizona turned to enter her car, but then she heard, "Arizona."

She turned around to see Callie inches away, Callie pulled her into a warm embrace, with her arms wrapped securely around her. Arizona flinched but then relaxed into the hug, trying to discreetly mask her tears from Callie. Though, she soon knew that would be futile. While Callie may not see her tears, she most certainly would feel them as they soaked through her shirt. This was one Christmas present that was better left wrapped. She inhaled the familiar smell of Callie's shampoo, it was the same scent she remembered lingering on her pillow last night. She missed this. Moments later however, Callie started to pull back and Arizona dropped her arms.

As Arizona drove out of town, she smiled knowing that her gift was a perfect fit.

* * *

A/N: Special thanks to the friend who wrote the technical part, not my field.


	15. Chapter 15

Thursday, Callie was finishing up her lecture of the teenage girl who flew off her roof under the influence of drugs. This case provided the best way to review the skeletal system in the human body, since this girl broke most of her bones. It was outrageous enough to keep the students hyper-focused, no small challenge on a bitterly cold January morning; most of these students were barely awake, attempting to function on insufficient sleep. Part way through class she notices her phone vibrating, not recognizing the number, she lets it go to voice-mail. After class, once all her students had left, she heads back to her office.

Alicia sees Callie en route to her office, "Hey, Callie."

"Alicia, what's up?" Callie asks.

"I was just on my way to your office. I want to go over the plans for tomorrow's dinner in Portland. We are booked to leave late morning, this will give us time to regroup before the dinner and presentation. Would you be able to carve out some time later today so we can go through your slides?" The older woman requests.

"Sure, Alicia. That would be great. I'd definitely feel better if I could go through it with you. I'm really nervous about this," Callie confides as she thinks back to all her attempts to get it right for the the TED talk. She can't remember the last time she gave a presentation without Arizona's help.

"How's 4:00pm?" Alicia proposes.

Smiling, Callie answers, "That works, see you then."

Alicia is about to walk away when she stops to add, "You know, word is spreading fast on your cartilage breakthrough. I've heard through the grapevine that your name was seen on a certain short list of notable researchers."

Wide eyed, Callie stands speechless at the last comments. Once Alicia turns to walk away, an ear to ear grin takes hold of her face.

Entering her office, she sorts through her in-basket, shoving a few pieces of mail into her briefcase to read more thoroughly at home. She then checks her office voice-mail and finally turns her attention to her cellphone, playing the single message: **"I hope this is you Torres, because your damn fool wife hasn't bothered to put your number in her contacts. If you haven't figured it out already, this is Miranda Bailey. I'm was specifically instructed NOT to call you and tell you a certain person is down with a nasty case of the flu. You are also not suppose to know that Hunt is making said dehydrated person go to the ER for some fluids after she fainted scrubbing out of surgery. I didn't mention anything about a possible concussion, did I?"**

Panic inherently takes hold, as Callie automatically worries how sick is sick_. 'A bad case of the flu. It can't be good, Arizona even fainted. A concussion? That's never happened before. Sofia, who has Sofia? She's probably in the daycare, but that won't work for twenty-four hours_.' Her mind is running at full speed.

Immediately, she decides she needs to check on Arizona, and grabs her phone to redial what is presumably Bailey's phone number and make sure things are okay. She didn't have time for this right now was all that came to mind. Her big presentation was just over twenty-four hours away, this was déjà vu all over.

Just as she is about to press the green button on her phone, she stops. "Why am I calling? I'm an idiot. Arizona is really sick, she has no one to manage that. Sofia is going to need a functional parent which, at the moment, clearly can't be Arizona. Why the hell didn't Arizona just call me and say she was sick, would that have been too much to ask? Still not great with the communication, Robbins. The presentation...I guess I can just as easily go to Portland from Seattle," Callie rationalizes talking to herself.

Quickly, Callie calls Alicia to let her know she was needed immediately in Seattle and would have to meet her in Portland. She would call her once she arrived and had a handle on things.

Packing her brief case quickly, she hurries from the campus by way of her house to pack an overnight bag, and her formal outfit for the next night. She wouldn't even make it to Seattle until late afternoon. An hour into the trip, she remembers she needs to call Jeff and let him know she would not be making dinner tonight or anytime soon. She neglects to tell him exactly the reason except it is a minor issue in Seattle that requires her immediate attention. She didn't know why she didn't tell him the specifics; she purposely left out that information. There was a slight pang of guilt as she sped down the highway, the feeling lingered that she was fibbing. It was more of a lie by omission. She just knew she needed to be there for Arizona. Is that something Jeff would understand at this early stage in their relationship, her dropping everything to help out her ex-wife? She didn't know and having lost so much this past year, she certainly was not going to risk it.

* * *

Xxxx

Callie rushes through the doors of the ER, ignoring the pleasantries of the familiar staff that had missed her during her absence. Noting the board, she heads toward the curtain that held her ex behind it. An unknown nurse stops her before she can go any farther.

"May I help you?" the unwitting nurse inquires.

Annoyed at being blockaded, Callie tersely answers, "No I'm all set. I'm Callie Torres. I'm here to see Arizona Robbins." Callie attempts to circumvent the human impediment.

The nurse continues to block her path, "I'm sorry, this area is restricted to family only. You'll need to wait in the lounge area. But I will let them know you're here." The nurse patronizingly says as she directs Callie to the waiting area.

Without hesitation, emotions take control, Callie loses all patience and courtesy, "Do you know who the hell I am? I am family! Dr. Robbins is my wife and I have every right to see her and check on her condition. Furthermore, I am also one of the doctors who own this hospital, so I would think twice before challenging me if I were you."

The uninformed nurse cowers under Callie's thunder. Cristina Yang comes around the corner long enough to hear "Do you know who I am…?" She stood smirking at the ignorance of the poor nurse.

Cristina walks up to Callie and smugly questions, "So, she's your wife now? Funny, last I heard you filed for divorce." Callie's head jerks around upon hearing Cristina's words, realizing in the heat of the moment she forgot Arizona was only her wife on paper; even that was about to change. She doesn't take any time to think her words through or the feelings Cristina's comment causes.

Choosing to respond tit-for-tat, Callie replies, "Ironic, coming from you since you sleep with Owen more now that you've divorced him. Maybe you should mind your own business Yang."

"Alright you two, make nice." Both women turn around to see Miranda Bailey standing behind them. The tension drains quickly from Callie and Cristina, who finally remember they are supposed to be good friends. Cristina's apparent bitterness at Callie's abrupt departure a few months back is temporarily shelved and is replaced by a hint of a smile.

"So, the prodigal daughter has returned," Bailey preaches. "Callie," she compassionately says, drawing her into a lengthy hug. "We've missed you. Some of us," she says as she crossly stares at Cristina, "show it differently than others."

Miranda turns to the blundering nurse "Well, I guess you've met the illustrious Dr. Callie Torres. Her bark really is worse than her bite. She speaks the truth, she is, for the time being. ..." Bailey pauses for dramatic effect, taking a moment to now disapprovingly stare at Callie, " still married to Dr. Robbins and she is one of Grey-Sloan's owners."

The nurse, still quaking in fear at the uproar she instigated in the ER moments earlier, meekly answers, "Sorry, Dr. Torres" and then skedaddles away.

Bailey calls out, "This way," directing Callie to the right bed.

Cautiously peeking through the crack, she saw an even paler Arizona laying almost lifeless, sweat across her brow, rosy cheeks from her fever, looking just plain terrible. Tiptoeing in, Arizona looked up, barely able to move her neck.

"What are you doing here, Callie?" She could barely whisper, her throat raw. "Who told you I was here? You're not suppose to know or even be here. I'm fine. Meredith said she would take Sofia for as long as I needed. She'd be fine there for a couple of days with Zola, you didn't have to come all the way up here. I'll be better in a day or so. I can finish out my two weeks with her, I've barely seen her as it is. Really, she's fine." Arizona argues weakly.

"I know Sofia's fine, it's you I'm worried about." Callie responds with concern.

Coughing into a choking fit, Arizona's eyes water a bit, Callie writing it off as a result of the episode. "I'm fine."

Laughing, Callie shook her head. "Yeah, I can see that. You look great, Arizona." She waits a beat. "How about this? We finish getting you hydrated and pumped full of meds then get you home into bed. Do you really want to spend the night here?" Callie continues without giving Arizona a chance to respond. "Someone needs to check you every couple hours tonight, you hit your head pretty hard when you passed out. I'll grab Sofia and we'll head over to your place. I'll stay around for a few days until you're on your feet and able to chase our crazy toddler about. This way I can keep an eye on you and you won't miss out on any time with Sofia." Callie proposes without really thinking the implications completely through but it also didn't matter; what mattered was Arizona. Regardless of their tumultuous past, Arizona would always matter to Callie, she'd always care.

Shaking her head, Arizona's eyes water even more. "I can't ask you to do that. Your presentation. You can't miss your dinner. It's a big deal." Arizona knew the magnitude of this presentation. This presentation was the first of many that Pullman had planned for Callie, showing off their shining star, literally pimping Callie out like a cheap whore but it came with the deal of her notoriety too and she had to suck it up. Pullman might not be appreciative of her disappearance but that mattered very little in these circumstances; Arizona was floored.

"You're not asking me, I'm offering. I'm worried about you and know you need somebody to take care of ... help you out." She quickly changes her wording knowing Arizona hates being taken care of ... at least since the accident this was the case. "I want to be here, Arizona." Her voice grew serious with concern and want.

Arizona was too tired and too weak to argue with Callie and truth be told, she didn't want to. Five months ago, heck probably even two months ago, Callie would have come and retrieved Sofia and returned to Pullman without looking back. Their friendship had come a long way and Arizona wasn't going to deny that Callie's olive branch here was a big deal. It was more than an olive branch, Callie was putting Arizona ahead of everything else even when there was now no need. Arizona knew how important Friday's dinner was yet here was her ex. She was truly touched. It was a big deal.

By Sunday night Arizona finally returned to the land of the living. She would need another day off, but the fever was gone and she was eating regularly again. No longer was perpetual sleep needed, though Callie refused to let her out of bed for any length of time. Turning on the TV in her bedroom, Arizona scrolls through the guide, desperate to find something light and mindless enough to keep her interest. She opted for a Saturday Night Live marathon. A half hour later, Callie walks into the room, "Sofia's finally asleep."

"She's going to be miserable once she needs to return to daycare on Tuesday. You've spoiled her Callie," Arizona chides.

Callie had decided to return to Pullman the next day. Once she saw how sick Arizona was, the presentation was a moot point. She called Alicia and told her that Arizona needed her more than WSU. Alicia knew enough to pinch hit for her. Sure, it was a bit of a black mark on her academia record, but Callie knew unequivocally she made the right choice.

Callie furrows her brows, "Umm, I spoil her? I don't think so. You are more guilty of that than me. What are you watching? Is this a SNL marathon? I love these," without a second thought, Callie plops down on the bed beside Arizona to watch, leaning against the headboard.

"Thanks Callie for taking care of me." Arizona gratefully says.

"It's no big deal. You would have done the same for me." Callie answers matter-of-factly, her eyes fixed on the TV screen. '_Would have'_ being the operative word. Callie knew Arizona would have been there for her before the crash, but now having an actual discussion with Arizona about _would haves_ or _should haves_ seemed a bit pointless and depressing.

Arizona mutes the volume and turns to look at Callie, "It is a big deal, Callie. I was supposed to be the one to take care of you. I didn't just fail you and myself but I even went so far to promise Mark and I failed him too."

Callie sits ups and turns her body so she is facing Arizona."I don't understand."

Frustrated, Arizona explains," What don't you understand? That it's always been my job to take care of you? It's just how it is and I liked it. I'm not saying you didn't take care of me because you went above and beyond, the things you had to put up with, well, I know it wasn't easy or pretty but I liked it being my job to take care of you. I wanted it to be me that you can home to and cried on, found solace in. I liked being able to make things better for you. It was my job. Once upon a time I took that job very seriously and I'm sorry." Arizona pauses a moment to collect her thoughts. Callie was staring at her with big, wet eyes. Sadness, a bit of loss reflected in them. Understanding, to a point. "And with Mark." She stalls a bit more. "Out there ..." Her voice hitches. "Out there, after we crashed, Mark was barely holding on. He just wanted to be with Lexi. He asked me... No, he told me to take care of you and Sofia. It was devastating knowing Lexi was dead and her body just yards away. Seeing Mark die a bit with her that day, all I could do was pray he could hold on until help got there."

Callie bites her lip as she hears Arizona recall that day. "What was it like being there?"

"I thought I would never forget those memories, but they are not as vivid as they used to be." She nervously laughs, "I think that's a good thing. I don't want to remember most of it. It was cold. The pain was so bad. I was nauseous all the time. And thirsty. I'd pass out and then come to. It hurt so much, I just wanted it to stop. I'd think of you just to have something else in my brain other than the painful bone protruding from my leg or Mark on the verge of death. I focused on seeing you again and Sofia. I kept trying to remember the good memories." Arizona stops knowing that the path the conversation was heading was dangerous. Who was to stay which wounds had healed and which ones were still healing. An uncomfortable silence follows Arizona's words. "I do a lot of focusing on the good memories nowadays."

"Hey, look. The Sarah Palin - Katie Couric interview with Tina Fey and Amy Poehler. I love this one," Arizona comments as she picks up the remote and unmutes the TV.

Callie closes her eyes absorbing the first bits of information Arizona has shared. Knowing it was all she would get from her tonight, she leans back against the headboard and tries to keep her gaze on the skit.

* * *

xxxxxx

The comfort of the small town unquestionably helped the healing process; its simplicity and neighborliness encouraged Callie to reevaluate her priorities. The _'take time to smell the flowers'_ philosophy reminded that her own well-being needed to be higher on her priority list, learning it was not selfish but prudent to put her needs first. What good is she to anyone if she was on the verge of self-destructing whether it be through physical exhaustion or emotional turmoil. The more she had a handle on her personal self, the greater the clarity she had in prioritizing the demands on her and the better she managed those needs. She couldn't quite say _'Life is good,'_ but she could accept _'Life is better'_.

The remnants of winter dawdled. Dirty, slushy snow decorated the shoulders of the country road. Darkness now delayed its arrival, with dusk an hour away. It was the usual chilly Saturday night in March; procrastinating flurries were painting a picturesque but lingering winter scene against the rolling hills. As he pulled into the driveway, Jeff could see Callie had a fire going in the fireplace; the smoke from the chimney circled above the roof.

Not much happens in the small town, and that was the beauty of it. There are a few restaurants, the movie theater, occasional events on campus. Callie promised Jeff a home cooked meal, which had become typical for their Saturday nights. Jeff was an adventurous diner, so Callie boldly pushed her culinary boundaries, tonight was no exception except Jeff insisted on bringing dessert. Nights in are common, tonight was more_ 'R-rated'_, in terms of the meal, the movie, the beverage and even the conversation. Sofia was with Arizona until tomorrow; Callie will make the trek to Ellenburg mid-morning for the exchange.

Callie smiles as she hears the knock on the door, breaking the clingy silence, she found no peace in quiet and was glad to have the unnerving dead-air cease. "Come in," she calls out from the kitchen. She rinses her hands, drying them off on her apron and walks across the room to meet Jeff, who greets her with a kiss, a bottle of wine, a DVD case and, of course, cannolis, which he insisted paired well with the movie.

Falling into his embrace, Callie relaxes in the comfort and security his arms provide, finally having escaped from the earlier loneliness of the house. Looking at the items he still holds, she quizzes playfully, "_The Godfather?_"

"I love that movie, '_Do you have faith in my judgment'_?" Jeff says in his best Don Corelone voice.

Callie laughs. "Hmmm," she skeptically answers.

"Dinner smells fantastic! You continue to astonish me, Dr. Callie Torres. What can't you do?" he asks in wonder.

The conversation and wine flow with dinner, but it turns out to be more of a monologue. Despite the gourmet meal and intimate setting, she is only rearranging the delectable food around on her plate, Callie needs to work hard to stay focused on Jeff's story.

"Callie," Jeff says as he puts down his fork and gives her his full attention. "Something is distracting you and hopefully you will eventually share it with me. But, I need to make clear, I know you know that I know you know I know that something is bothering you.

Hearing the absurd phrase, she is unable to brood any longer. Callie bursts into a fit of laughter, "What does that even mean?"

Jeff warmly smiles, "It means I like it better when you smile."

Taking in a big breath and slowly exhaling, "Okay." His compassion is disarming, giving her enough courage to raise a subject she had been deliberating about broaching all day, "So, I got a letter in the mail today."

"A letter? From?" He asks, curiously, wondering what could possibly have thrown his girlfriend into such a funk.

"My lawyer, my..." she stops, unable to finish her sentence. Letting out a dejected sigh, she hoarsely whispers, "My divorce from Arizona is final."

Jeff chokes on his wine, "Really?" Certainly not what he was expecting to hear.

Nervously, Callie nods in affirmation, "Really."

Callie, sitting across from two beaming eyes, had none other than a deer-in the-headlights look plastered across her face. Fear, sadness, perhaps even a smidgen of regret that the loose ends of her past are now neatly tied up paralyze her.

Jeff pauses, looking sincerely into Callie's eyes and segues to the next topic tenderly, "Look Cal, I know we talked about… I know we are taking it slow. You wanted to wait until you weren't married anymore, I totally respect that. But just because that time has come, I don't want you to think I am expecting you to jump right into bed with me. I've waited this long, I can wait until you're ready. You're worth waiting for." He says, blushing. Her announcement truly did take him by surprise, sex was not the last thing he had on his mind, but it wasn't running rampant through his brain either.

Relief washes over her, Callie smiles with admiration; this man was perfect, chivalrous and gallant. He is genuinely so considerate of her. She loves that; Jeff came into her life when she needed someone to remind her she wasn't broken, that she was special and _'worth waiting for._'

The pressure of the moment alleviated, Callie's entire body relaxes. "Thank you, I'm not ready tonight. It's a big step for me. But, I was thinking about this weekend, at the Harper Avery events. I thought maybe we could cancel your hotel room reservation."

Jeff's face lights up with school-boy enthusiasm, "Okay." Anxious to change topics, before the conversation made him even more distracted, "Ready to watch the movie?" he asks eagerly.

Callie nods and grins at his awkwardness, "Ready."

Jeff walks into the living room, as he pops the dvd in, he smiles, _"Take the cannolis,_" which leaves Callie amused at his beloved Godfather quotes, she grabs the dessert, and takes her usual spot, her back leaning against his chest, with his arms securely wrapped around her as the two sprawl across the couch.

* * *

Xxxxx

Callie arrives at Chuck E. Cheese at 1pm on the next day. Arizona and Sofia were already inside playing. She stays out of view a few moments, enjoying the sight of mother and daughter. Lately, Arizona acts more like a kid sometimes than Sofia, Callie observes. Life had really taken a turn and her wife ... her ex-wife had finally found the carefree woman she knew had been buried deep under years of pain and grief. She took a moment to feel regret and sadness, not being a player in this part of Arizona's life before shaking off the feelings.

Callie has no regrets letting Arizona back into her life. Their friendship had grown gradually, evolving easily without physical intimacy. It was their physical attraction which first brought them together, but they complimented each other emotionally and that is what kept them bound. Callie could not dispute that the two were natural friends. They communicated almost daily, usually by text but phone calls and email, too. Usually, it was regarding Sofia, some irrelevant question that with enough self-prodding was deemed pertinent enough to ask. Then of course there was the exchange of the indecent jokes which had currently evolved to more racy quips. There was even contact under the guise medical opinion to be gained and discussed. They were friends.

Though their marriage was officially over, most of their past time together was special and Callie continued to love Arizona on some level, she knew she always would. Undoubtedly, it made Sofia's life better having both her parents involved and partnering as friends. Callie hoped Sofia was young enough that this shared arrangement would seem natural as she grew up. Callie felt emancipated from the chains of anger and grief which held hostage when she first learned of Arizona's adultery, though it wasn't to say that she didn't still slightly seethe at the thought of the affair and Arizona cheating, but she understood at that time emotionally they were both in a bad place. Currently, she evolved to a stage where she understood life didn't intentionally blackball her, there wasn't a contract out to assassinate her happiness. She just finally understood that stuff happens, good and bad; it was all in how she saw the glass. The glass today was half full.

"Mommy!" Sofia screeches from across the restaurant.

Callie smiles at her daughter's exuberant and improper outburst and she smirks as she sees Arizona struggling to keep a straight face and simultaneously scold their daughter for the loudness, because truth be known, Arizona is just as happy to see Callie standing there.

"Hey, Big Girl. Did you have fun with Mama?" Callie playfully asks, as Sofia applies a teddy bear hug around her mother.

"Yes!" As Sofia starts to rattle off the list of activities the two shared. Callie was a bit jealous, Pullman was limited in fun. There were great hikes and other such outdoor activities, but no zoo or children's museum like Seattle.

After eating lunch, Sofia negotiates a bit more play time while the two mother continue to talk at the table as they watch Sofia bop around the activities. Callie pulls out a manilla envelope from her purse. Arizona, remembering the last time she saw a similar envelope, eyes it suspiciously.

"Arizona, you know next Saturday is the Harper Avery ceremony?" Callie inquires.

"How could I forget? I was going to ask you if you wanted me to take Sofia, I know it's your weekend, but I thought it might be easier. You have a lot happening, I could meet you wherever you are flying out of or even go to Pullman to get her." Arizona sincerely offers.

Callie shakes her head, "Actually, no, I have that covered." Arizona immediately becomes downcast, her face wearing the pain she feels at Callie's rejection of what she intended to be a thoughtful offer.

Seeing the hurt in Arizona's eyes, Callie tenderly continues. "It's not that I don't want you to take Sofia; I was hoping you would come to the ceremony."

Fear replaces hurt, and takes control over Arizona as her entire body stiffens with uncomfortable memories, "In New York?"

Pursing her lips, Callie wishfully nods, "In New York."

The enormity of the request throws Arizona back against her chair. Stammering, she attempts to reject Callie's heartfelt request as considerately as possible. "Well, ummm, let me think about it. I haven't been on a plane since, well you know. And I know the odds of it crashing are nil. It's just …hard for me to do that. I'm still learning to get over those emotions, fear, anxiety, panic," Arizona accedes. "Plus, we're not married anymore, it's not my place to be there." She honestly divulges, not allowing herself to stuff those beliefs deep down within her, which would only serve to unravel the progress she has made.

Callie's insides knot with dread at the turmoil she has placed her new found friend in. "Arizona, I understand, I really do. But, I want you to know that I would be honored to have you there. No, we're not married, but we are friends, I'd like to think good friends. You were with me when I started this. Remember how supportive you were? I couldn't have done this without you."

Callie hands the envelope to Arizona. "So, in here is a plane ticket, the invitation to the awards ceremony and the confirmation number for your hotel reservation. WSU is hosting a cocktail reception before the ceremony, your invitation to that is in here too. If you are able to come, it will give us a good chance to talk. After the ceremony it gets crazy, lots of meet and greet, regardless whether I win or not," Callie kindly explains.

Smiling, Arizona shakes her head, "When you win. You… are… amazing and you are going to win."

Embarrassed by Arizona's presumptuous flattery, a grinning Callie drolly replies, "Well then, you better be there."

Callie stands, "Listen, I've got to run. I have a ton of papers that need correcting, the downside of teaching." She puts on her own coat and gathers Sofia's as well, who is now hypnotized by two boys playing a skee ball game. "Thanks Arizona." Pausing a moment, Callie instinctively wants to embrace Arizona, but wonders if a hug would blur the lines of their relatively new and comfortable relationship. She decides to not tip the apple cart and quashes the urge. Extracting Sofia from her trance, the threesome leave the restaurant, Sofia grasps a hand from each mom, and swings along between them.

Driving home, Callie thinks about her request of Arizona. Her invitation was made in earnest, nothing would make her happier than to have Arizona there. Melancholy soon takes over, Callie glumly accepts it is unrealistic to expect Arizona to attend. She broods over whether she should have even asked that of Arizona. Maybe it was too much to expect of her, too much to put on Arizona's plate. Callie is resigned to the likelihood that there are fears from Arizona's past that will always keep her in a stranglehold, but in the end she concludes that it is not her decision to make. It was good the invitation was extended, even though realistically, it will most likely not be utilized. However, Callie hoped the spirit of the invite was welcomed.

* * *

xxxxx

The Saturday flight was for 6:00am, which would get her to New York by 2pm. Arizona arrived at the airport by 5am. She only needed a carry-on; she was returning to Seattle the next day. She managed to schedule multiple appointments during the week with Ben in anticipation of this day. They reviewed breathing techniques, visualization, meditation and he even suggested some medication to take the edge off. The flight started boarding. With the first class ticket Callie had purchased for her, she could take her seat right off. But she couldn't. Her fear tossed all her preparation by the wayside.

The ongoing boarding announcements continued to remind Arizona of the diminishing window of opportunity to board her flight. She tried to move but felt glued to her chair, her left leg throbbing with the paranoid reminder of the last plane trip that she consciously took. She despairingly imagined Callie, who was flying out of Spokane with Jeff at this very moment, moving forward with her life. But Arizona felt stagnant. When the gate doors closed at 5:45am, tears rolled down her face, cognizant that she once again made a choice that would disappoint Callie.

Her body remains on strike, refusing to leave her seat in the waiting area. An hour later Arizona convinces herself that this is feasible. She wants to prove to Callie that Callie was more important than anyone or anything else to her, even her monumental fear of plane crashes. There was one flight left that would get her there in time; it departed at 11:00am. If she took that flight she would get there by 7pm. She would miss the cocktail party and dinner, but she would still be there for the awards. Finally standing, she steels her nerves and walks to the desk to rebook her ticket.

Unsurprisingly, it was a first class ticket. Callie would spare no expense to ensure she was as comfortable as possible during her trip. Fortunately, it was a premium ticket, as the balance of the flight was sold out. For the next couple hours, Arizona sits and watches the planes land and takeoff, she is mesmerized by the grace at which the plane soars into the sky, enveloped by the clouds, followed by the dexterity it lands, forgetting momentarily of her own calamitous experience. She observes countless people board and deplane, as if the experience was as routine as entering and exiting a car, an elevator or even a building. She tries to visualize herself doing just that, casually boarding in Seattle and nonchalantly deplaning in New York. She continues to prime herself, persuading her conscience that she could do this, and for Callie, she would do anything.

Mid-meditation, a young man sits next to her, it was the only vacant seat left in the waiting area. His anxiousness is apparent and immediately draws her attention. She can't help but observe the quirky man, he is singing to himself, off in his own world, his leg shaking to an unrecognizable beat. His constant jerkiness begins to grate on her, disrupting her mindful reflection. He keeps checking his watch, making the countdown of her approaching departure time more obvious.

Annoyed, she finally inquires "Are you okay?"

"Me? Yeah," he answers confidently, oblivious to her displeasure. "I'm just nervous, I moving, to New York. I've got an audition Monday. Tomorrow people are going to help me prep. I saved all my money to make this move. I've been waiting forever to do this, and now it's here, my moment is here. I'm nervous. But hey, go big or go home, right? I'm not goin' home. I need to clear standby. This might be my big break, and I'm not blowing it."

"Well, maybe you can have my seat." Arizona offhandedly proposes.

"You don't want to go? To New York?" The young man questions with disbelief.

Arizona shakes her head, confirming his question as true. "I'm afraid to fly," she confesses.

"Why? It's the safest way to travel," he insists.

"Long story," she answers, then Arizona hears over the loud speaks, "Dr. Robbins to the check-in desk, Dr. Arizona Robbins to the desk for check-in."

Arizona returns from the desk holding her boarding pass, the gate attendant needed to give her the revised seat assignment. "So, you're a doctor? I hope it's not a medical crisis in New York if you are not sure you're getting on the plane." The aspiring, but jumpy actor comments. "I'm Seth."

"I am a doctor, Arizona Robbins," she says as she shakes his hand. "Nice to meet you, Seth. No, this is more of a personal trip. There is an awards dinner I'm supposed to attend tonight for a special friend." Before she realizes it, Arizona shares more than she planned. "I was originally scheduled for the 6:00am flight, but I lost my nerve and couldn't get on the plane."

The two continue to chat until the flight is being boarded. Arizona stays put when first class is called. Her chatty neighbor hears his name being beckoned to the check-in area. He looked more like Tigger as he bounces to the desk.

"I made it, I'm on the flight Doc!" he cheerfully announces as he skips back. "Let's go," he says, as he offers her his hand.

Arizona gulps, tears well in her eyes. "I can't."

Anxious to leave, Seth's sole focus is on boarding. He hurriedly answers. "Suit yourself, but it's going to be fine." Grabbing his backpack, he walks toward the boarding tunnel.

Disgusted with herself, Arizona hangs her head, "I don't know how to do this, I'm so sorry. I can't." She apologizes to the vacant space before her.

After a moment or so, she feels a strong hand on her knee, "What's up, Doc?"

Amidst the teariness, she is forced to laugh at Seth's corny delivery.

"You don't really want to go home, do you? We can do this." Seth says encouragingly.

"This is the final boarding call for Flight 1314 to New York," echos above.

"Seth, you are going to miss your flight, your chance." Arizona reminds the budding thespian.

"Well then, you better hurry up Doc, today we're going big." He firmly states with a goofy expression.

Seth's words are a booster shot of courage and Arizona shakily stands; Seth yells out, "Hold that door, we're coming."

* * *

xxxx

Arizona quickly changes into a flattering, fitted, woman's suit for the black tie event. Originally she had brought a stunning deep blue evening gown. Since her stress levels were through the roof, she chose her back up outfit of slacks. Once upon a time she'd have preferred the dress over the suit, not even having an outfit in reserve but today, after the stress of the flight, and her knowledge that she'd already be uncomfortable tonight, the suit would bring her a little more security and peace of mind. She was late but she was there she pondered with a mix of relief and pride. She laughs thinking about the flight. Seth boldly, without even consulting her, exchanged her first class seat with the portly man assigned to the middle seat beside Seth. The gentleman assumed Seth was her '_boy toy'_ the way he held her tight. Of course, not missing an opportunity to perform, he played the part well, never releasing his hand from her firm grip and offering the occasional embrace when he sensed her anxiety heighten with turbulence or seeing her eyes well with fear.

She had missed the cocktail party; Callie probably assumed she wasn't coming, not that she would be surprised. Callie must have known Arizona's attendance would be a long shot. Arizona locates the function room and enters with the ceremony already in progress. Finding an inconspicuous spot in the back, she takes her place as a wall flower.

The introductions are impressive. Each nominee's background is ceremoniously announced. Arizona fills with pride upon hearing Callie's biography read.

"And the winner of this year's Harper Avery is...Dr. Calliope Torres." Callie is shocked, needing a moment to compose herself. Beaming with admiration, Jeff quickly places his arm around her, kissing her.

Callie is obviously nervous, almost to the point of paralysis. Finally, she is able to stumble to the podium, the panic stricken look across her face is unmistakable to not only Arizona, but also to those who have her in view. "Oh, no Callie. You can do this," Arizona says to herself, as she knows how bad this could turn from past experience.

Once at the podium, Callie's floundering only increases. She looks to Jeff for support, but he sits dumbfounded by her speechlessness. Noticing the crowd merely adds to her fear. The audience senses her stage-fright, which only exacerbates it. Callie turns pale as she remains tongue-tied.

Arizona can easily feel the agony radiating off Callie's body. Confident she could get Callie through this, she wills Callie to see her without a second thought. "See me, Callie. See me." She scolds herself silently for missing that earlier plane, "Callie doesn't even know I'm here."

Arizona then takes two steps forward, so she is no longer camouflaged by the back wall. Still falling over her words, Callie is ready to launch into full panic mode when a flash of blond hair catches her eye. Her voice hitches, "Arizona."

Arizona locks her eyes on Callie: "Just look at me, Callie, just keep your eyes on me," she wills quietly. Slowing, Arizona starts to unbutton her suit jacket. Painfully slow, she's recreating the scene in their home over a year ago with her pajama top, "Come on Callie, remember, it's just liked we practiced at home before the TED conference." Throwing Callie her most seductive smile, she slowly removes her coat, her actions are met with eyebrows raised and her mouth wide open as the sheer top under the jacket reflects the light perfectly giving Callie more than she bargained for as to just what exactly Arizona was wearing, the lace bra to be exact.

In just a matter of seconds, face still flushed, Callie let's out a sigh of relief; she is hypnotically entranced by Arizona's mime, her eyes focused on Arizona's actions. As if on cue, Callie begins her speech, delivering it flawlessly from that point on. Her eyes now luminescent and the panic long gone. Once Callie is back in control of her words, Arizona breaks the spell, which definitely threatened to tangle their lines of friendship.

The crowd chalks the scene up to jitters, but Jeff realizes there is something in Callie's eyes he has never seen before, a sparkle, a gleam; it was foreign to him. Jeff turns to see what has captured his girlfriend's attention, neither woman sees him observing. Sitting beside Jeff, Alicia Proficio watches as well, but she doesn't bother to turn around, she does not need to. She has seen that look before, and she already knows who must be on the receiving end.

"This evening I am extremely grateful to be honored with this award. Colleagues at WSU-Pullman have been wonderfully supportive through my research stages and I am most appreciative of the opportunity they offered to me. What I discovered through all the trials and tribulations is that to be successful and get to the next level, I needed to take risks, go out on a limb, really put myself out there. When I was playing it safe, plodding along with the traditional path of discovery, my research floundered. The artificial cartilage came to be because I was willing to take not just one chance but multiple, I needed to go back to the drawing board and try again. You see, initially I walked away from this project because the results failed me. It wasn't the results, it was me. I failed the project because I didn't see its depth and potential. When I gave the initiative a second chance, looking at the facts with a fresh perspective and putting myself out there, knowing it could all flop, but I was willing to take a risk, well things happened. My passion returned and the results, well you know how well they turned out."

Met with resounding cheers, Callie concludes her speech, and returns to her seat, still a bit embarrassed by her earlier stage fright., "Wow, I thought with all that lecturing I would no longer get nervous," she apologetically explains to her table.

As the event drew to a close, the post ceremony meet and greet begins with esteemed medical colleagues queuing up to congratulate her. Hoping to catch Arizona, she sees a blur of blond and and black scooting to the elevators. She continues to survey the crowd, seeking out Jeff. She finally spots him leaning against the bar alone, nursing a scotch.

Taking a moment, she walks over to speak with him "Hey, this could be awhile, I'll just meet you back at the room," she proposes coyly. He nods. She senses his discomfort, chalking it up to feeling like a third wheel at another event. She knew the last couple months had been bittersweet for him. When she wanted to avoid it all, Jeff refused to let her turn her back on her life or on her research, the result was he often had to wait patiently in the wings. The fruits of her success meant he became more of a bystander, rather than an active player in her life. But it appears even Jeff had a limit to his unselfishness and tonight he appeared to be brooding a bit. She leaves him with a reassuring kiss.

Arizona returns directly to her room once the event ends. She knows the unspoken, provocative interaction between the two needs to either be forgotten or discussed. She did not have the heart to see Callie tonight and then have her act oblivious to what transpired, so she decides to call it a night, allowing her to revel in her brief fairy tale moment a bit longer, albeit alone.

After an hour or so of schmoozing, Callie finally returns to their room. Jeff is still in his tux, though jacket and tie removed. He has a bottle of champagne in hand, and appears to be drinking straight from the bottle.

"Jeff?" She asks perplexed.

Jeff stares forlornly at his girlfriend, "So, tonight I had the feeling your speech wasn't just about the cartilage."

Callie looks at Jeff, unsure as to what he is implying.

Confused, she replies, "I don't understand."

Jeff continues, "I'm traditional, predictable, safe. We're comfortable, we love each other. Well, I love you. But whatever you are feeling for me it's not forever, let's build a future together, love. Is it? We both know that passion is what fuels you, and you don't have that passion for me, do you? You don't see me like you see her." He wasn't asking.

Callie is startled by the unexpected conversation. The normally staid man is now somewhat inebriated. "No, no what are you saying? Please don't..." She begs as another relationship is starting to slip from her grasp.

"Cal, I want nothing more than to be with you, wherever that may be, make you my wife and create a life together, with Sofia. You might even let me, if I push hard enough. Tell me you want me, that I won't make you feel smothered, limited, stale five years from now? Hell, even a month from now. I promise to give you stability, forever, but you share with me only what you aren't afraid to lose. Like I said, I'm safe and I can live with that, but you need to promise me you can too. I'm scared that lack of passion will be your kryptonite, slowly you will shrink to someone less. No matter how hard the research failed, beat you, you pushed back harder. Your passion for the person you love should be at least equal to the passion you have for your work. After tonight, I'm not convinced I bring that out in you. Tell me I'm wrong?" He asks with such sincerity she can't help but be enamored with him even more.

"Jeff, no. Please. No I'm not going to love anybody like my love for Arizona but that doesn't mean I don't love you. We have a history and daughter together, I can't just turn it off. Please." She wraps her arms around him terrified that he's going to disappear like everything else she ever cared for in her life and she's trying to stop her life from crumbling once again.

* * *

Xxxxxxx

"What is taking room service so long?" Arizona knew sleep would not come easily, a cup of chamomile tea would help. It was after midnight; Arizona absently flips through her medical journals, '_Callie won her Harper Avery'_. She couldn't help but be proud of Callie.

It hurt that it wasn't her sitting by her side, but she was proud none-the-less. In her dreams, Arizona was supposed to be Callie's date, still her wife, sitting at the reserved table. With their divorce final, she lost that privilege, permanently.

Arizona remembered back when she thought her leg was her biggest loss. How narcissistic of her. At the end of each day she forgot all about her leg, because all she could think about was Callie, missing Callie. But Callie said they could work on being friends, for Sofia's sake she would make that work and be Callie's friend. Their platonic friendship would be her life sentence for crimes committed against the heart.

Perhaps, years from now, she would meet someone who, at least in part, could fill part of the void that Callie's departure left, but for time being another relationship in her life was the farthest thing on her mind because she still loved Callie. She never stopped loving Callie and probably never would, she only stopped loving herself.

Tonight's intoxicating eye contact was a searing reminder of their visceral connection. Now that the pieces of her puzzled life were essentially back in place, Arizona readily acknowledged that she liked getting up in the morning, she liked her job, her patients, her colleagues, even owning the damn hospital. She loved Sofia, Callie, her parents, and yes, she loved herself, even with her imperfections. It saddened her that it took this long to accept this new self.

There was knock, breaking her from the fool's paradise she was momentarily wallowing in; room service finally arrived with her tea. Arizona limps over to the door and opens it. Standing before her, face tear-stained, is Callie. Shocked by Callie's presence, Arizona rambles anxiously. "What's wrong, are you hurt?"

Callie remained fixed in her spot. As pent up sobs escaped, Callie exclaims "This is wrong!"

Confused, Arizona questions. "What?"

"I am standing on the wrong side of this door, this should be our room. You should have been sitting next to me tonight, this should have been our honor." Callie chastises Arizona.

"I don't understand, Callie tell me what happened." Arizona worriedly asks.

"Damnit Arizona, don't you get it? We're never going to move past this; it's too big, all of it. We are supposed to be together and I am never going to be able to truly love anyone else because I still love you." Callie yells at her ex-wife accusatorily.

Guilt fills Arizona, yet again. Bewildered by Callie's words, she sorrowfully responds. "I'm… I'm sorry." She is truly sorry for hurting Callie's ability to move forward.

"I didn't come here for a pity party." Callie angrily responds.

Callie vents the remaining acrimony within her. "I will never forget what you did, the pain it caused. I can't, I tried but I can't." Arizona cowers as the words pierce her ears.

Callie continues her monologue without missing a beat. "But for the same reasons, I also can't forget our love, how happy we were and how incredible your love made me feel. And I want to feel incredible again. Tonight I felt it, for a few moments when I looked into your eyes I saw us, only us. That magic returned and my soul was whole again. I knew ... I know I still love you." Callie petulantly explains.

Trying to rein in the emotional anarchy within her, Callie quells her anger and painfully acknowledges, "Without you, I'm never going to experience that passionate love unless it's with you, but,...but I want to. It's not all on you, we've both made mistakes. I can't forget all that has happened, because it would mean that I would need to forget all the wonderful, breathtaking times we shared, too. To lose those memories would destroy me, those memories are part of me, part of my soul. So, I can't forget, I won't forget ... but, I can forgive." Callie weepily confesses.

Astounded, Arizona questions, "You'd forgive me?"

Callie's emotions finally subdue. "I'm not there yet, but I'm getting there. And I'm willing to try again. I need to try. Tonight, when I saw you, I only saw us, just us. I want us again. So, yeah, I want to try."

Blue eyes well with hope, she grasps Callie's hand and draws her across the threshold, Arizona tearfully responds, "Me too."

**"_The two most powerful words when we_'re in _struggle_: _me too." — Brené Brown_.**

the end

* * *

A/N: Thank you to all who took the time to read, follow and review this story. The support has been wonderful and so appreciated.


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